


Grace & Fury

by Mavis_Moulterd_Humphries



Category: British Comedy - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Grace Brothers, Great Tender, Millstone Manor, Scotland Yard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-29
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:58:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mavis_Moulterd_Humphries/pseuds/Mavis_Moulterd_Humphries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story has taken me almost 14 years to complete, and over time it has matured and developed a life of its' own.  Unlike the GRACE & FAVOUR series, this story is filled with painful situations and drama, which lends a depth to each character and reveals the pain behind the laughter.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Prologue to the Present Day

**Author's Note:**

> This story has taken me almost 14 years to complete, and over time it has matured and developed a life of its' own. Unlike the GRACE & FAVOUR series, this story is filled with painful situations and drama, which lends a depth to each character and reveals the pain behind the laughter.

Grace & Fury  
a “Grace & Favour” Fanfic  
based on characters created by Jeremy Lloyd and David Croft

Prologue

“Hush, little baby, don't say a word,” Mary Moulterd sang to her infant daughter Mavis, causing her to smile and coo, “Mama's gonna buy you a mocking-bird...”  
Mary tried to be cheerful, despite the pain she not only felt from childbirth not that long ago, but from the beatings she'd been getting from her husband Maur-ice from the early days of their marriage, which had been arranged by her father and Maurice's family. Dowries and arranged marriages such as hers were still legal in the village of Great Tender, although the local magistrate, Sir Robert Woodward, and his associate Celia Littlewood had tried to have them stricken from the village charter for over 15 years. Her father had arranged the marriage to get her out of his house, and didn't care that Maurice was abusing her, as long as she had a hus-band.  
Nor did it help that Henry Heathcliff, who hailed from the village's wealth-iest family and was an outright bully with a son who was already just like him, was Maurice's best friend. Malcolm was just 2, but already he was a spoiled brat who wanted everything his way, and his father had indulged him from the start. And he had taken a shine to Mavis since she had come out of the womb.  
God, Mary prayed silently, let Maurice come to his senses and not let Mal-colm near our child.  
Maurice, however, had his own intentions.

“A deal's a deal, 'Enry,” Maurice chortled when he and Henry met at the Four Ferrets pub, “yer Malcolm wants ta marry my Mavis when they're growed? Well, 'e can.”  
“Are you sure, Maurice?” Henry asked. “You know that goody-two-shoes wife of yours will object.”  
“Aw, that bitch is soft in the 'ead,” Maurice chortled over his scrumpy. “An' if she does object, I'll put another lump on it.”  
“Man after me own 'eart,” Henry grinned, downing his mug. “I'm gonna go 'ome an' tell Malcolm th' good news.”  
Maurice laughed. “Don't worry none, 'Enry, I'll bring that wife 'a mine to heel,” Maurice promised. “Mavis an' Malcolm will be together. Ya gots my word on it.”  
As Henry left, Malcolm ran up to him, accompanied by his mum. “Daddy, is it true?” he squealed happily. “I'm gonna marry Mavis Moulterd when we're growed?”  
Henry scooped him up in his arms. “You are, boy,” he grinned, ruffling his hair. “It's all set.”  
“Yay!” Malcolm chirped.

Maurice was in a cheerful mood when he returned home, and immediately Mary knew she couldn't trust it. “Maurice, what happened while you were at the pub?” she asked. “You're not usually this happy.”  
“I gots reason ta be, woman,” he grinned. “I've secured Mavis's future.”  
Mary now realized what had happened. “Oh, no, you didn't.”  
“What? All's I done is promise 'Enry 'Eathcliff that 'is boy Malcolm's gon-na make an honest woman of our Mavis when they're older.”  
Mary couldn't have been more disheartened. “Maurice, I'm ashamed of you. You've not given Mavis a choice in the matter.”  
“Mary, it's done! An' I'm not gonna back out of it. Mavis will marry Mal-colm an' that's that!”  
“And what if she says no? What if she falls in love with someone else?”  
“Then I'll give 'er th' strap 'til she changes 'er mind!” And now he slap-ped her open-handed. “An' as fer you, you stupid bitch, yer gonna go along with it or else!” Another slap.  
Now Mary found herself emboldened. She'd had enough. “No,” she said.  
Maurice was furious. “What did you say?”  
“No.”  
“You'll do as I say, woman!”  
Mary said it a third time. “No. I'm taking Mavis and I'm leaving.” She put the sleeping Mavis in her travel bassinet, then began packing her things.  
“You can't! Yer father - !”  
“Yes, me father dowried me out to you. So what, Maurice? Me dad didn't let me marry the man I actually loved, he made me marry you instead. An' what 'ave I got to show for it besides Mavis? Low self-esteem an' a lot of bruises.” She clicked the suitcases shut once they were packed. “No more, Maurice.”  
As she spoke, she did not see him charge...

Present Day

Mavis Moulterd was sleeping when Wilberforce Clayborne Humphries arose the morning after the darts match, rising well before the crack of dawn to get in the morning chores before Maurice had a chance to realize she was still resting. Wil softly smoothed her hair, then kissed her cheek before changing into his farm jeans and denim shirt, then going into the farmyard.  
He began by cutting the firewood and stoking the furnace, and feeding the livestock before gathering eggs and milking the cow. Then he put the eggs and milk in the icebox before returning outside to rat out the drains, gather some veggies from the vegetable garden, and cut some herbs for cooking and wildflowers for dec-oration. As he headed back to the manor, he peered in on old Maurice.  
The vicious old sot was still sleeping off his drunk from the previous night.  
Thank God, Wil thought to himself as he returned to the manor. He was still angry about what had happened at the pub, and no wonder.  
When Malcolm had bullied Mavis during the darts match, Maurice, her own fath-er, did not tell Malcolm off. Wil had. And it had earned Wil Maurice's ire, just as everything Wil and Mavis had done for each other had earned them Maurice's ire. And neither of them knew why.  
The fact that Maurice had overworked Mavis on the farm her whole life, that he continued to bully her well into her adulthood, angered Wil deeply. To say no-thing of the fact that, at 23, Mavis was being beaten by Maurice on a regular ba-sis, when he wasn't pushing Malcolm onto her. It was as if, in his own abusive way, Maurice was trying to fix Mavis up with the wretch.  
As he set aside the herbs, veggies and flowers on the kitchen counter, Wil had no idea how right he was.

Shirley Brahms was the first one down for breakfast, and was stunned to see Wil doing the cooking instead of Mavis. “'Ere, what's all this?” she asked.  
“For God's sake, keep y'voice down,” Wil gently scolded as he tended to the eggs and bacon on the cooktop and the American-style buttermilk biscuits in the ov-en, “y'nearly made me mess up me eggs.”  
“Sorry,” Shirley said. “Oh, it smells smashin'. But 'ow come Mavis ain't up yet?”  
“She's resting. After all her father's put on her, she's a damn sight earn-ed it,” Wil replied.  
Now Shirley got playfully suspicious. “Oh. For someone 'oo says 'e don't 'alf fancy 'er, you've a 'eckuva way 'a showin' it. If I was you, I'd go a'ead an' fess up already.”  
“And if I were you, Shirley,” Wil said angrily, “I'd mind me own damn bus-iness!”  
Now Wil realized that Jessica, Steven, Cuthbert and Betty had come down, and he immediately regretted his outburst. “Oh, Shirley, I'm sorry,” he said sadly.  
“Aw, don't be,” Shirley grinned. “I was outta line, too.”  
Everyone now sat down to the breakfast Wil had prepared, which also included breakfast tea, butter, and orange marmalade. After everyone had filled their plates, Wil prepared a breakfast tray for him to share with Mavis. “I daresay, Mr. Humphries, I've never known you to be such a busy bee,” Jessica said.  
“So ya did all th' mornin' chores, then,” Shirley said.  
“I have,” Wil said, “and compared to what Mavis has had to put up with, this is child's play.” He then took the tray upstairs.  
As she buttered a biscuit, Betty asked, “So Mavis really is sleeping in for a change?”  
“She is,” Shirley said. “An' frankly, it's 'bout time.”  
“I agree,” Cuthbert said. “I'm not surprised Mr. Humphries stood up for her at the pub last night, either.”  
“Yes, he really stood in the gap for her,” Steven said. “Her own father has his head crammed so far up Malcolm's backside, it's no wonder he wouldn't step in.”  
“Why is old Maurice so bent on bringing that awful boy around her?” Betty asked.  
“Believe me, Mrs. Slocombe, even I have no idea,” Jessica said.  
“For once, I agree with ya,” Shirley said. “Th' bad news is, th' sheep are still 'ere an' ol' Moulterd'll be wakin' up eventually.”  
“What I'm wondering is,” Steven said, “why Moulterd lied and said the Heathcliffs were only going to raise the sheep for wool when they intended to slaughter them.”  
“Damned if I know,” Cuthbert said.

“Thanks fer lettin' me sleep in, Mr. 'Umphries,” Mavis chirped as she and Wil headed to the village after breakfast to get some supplies and to make Young Mr. Grace's old sedan legal. “Good thing Dad was still asleep, or I'd 'ave gotten a good beatin' for sure.”  
“Mavis, he shouldn't be doing that to you, just like Malcolm has no right to run over you simply because you're not interested in him,” Wil noted. “And while I'm on the subject of those 2, why is your father so intent on having Malcolm in your airspace?”  
“Beats me. 'E's been shovin' Malcolm on me since we was kids, an' even back then Malcolm 'ad th' makin's of becomin' th' town bully, like 'e is now.”  
“Judging from Henry, the apple didn't fall far from the tree.”  
“Y'damn right. But enough about them 3. Tell me more about you.”  
“What's there to tell, dear? I've never been married, I lived with me moth-er until recently, and I worked at Grace Brothers for almost 30 years on the mens' sales counter. I also worked at Derry and Toms in the hardware department before coming to Grace Brothers,”  
“Well, tell me this. Do you ever think you'll marry someday an' become a father?”  
“Honestly? I don't know. I've been a bachelor for so long, and I've slept alone for so long, I can't honestly say that I've ever been in love.” Watch this. “Until now.”  
“Mr. 'Umphries?  
“It's Wil, dear. Call me Wil.” He gripped her hand as they drove into the village, and she gripped it back, smiling.

“Dad!” Malcolm called out when he ran in from the family estate's farmyard, “Dad! The sheep's gone!”  
“What?” Henry asked, going with him to see.  
Sure enough, the sheep were gone. “Y'don't think ol' Maurice changed 'is mind about that 'Umphries, do ya?” Malcolm asked.  
“No, I don't think Maurice 'ad anythin' t'do with this,” Henry assured him. “Don't you worry none, Malcolm. Sheep or no sheep, it'll all play out. Let's go get some breakfast.”  
“Okay,” Malcolm said, going in with his father  
Jessica got on her horse, then began the meandering ride throughout the countryside surrounding the village. Already the facade was beginning to crack.  
Outwardly a tarty, snarky bitch, inwardly she was anything but that. If any-one were to know who she really was, she feared, they would think she were weak and spineless. That was why she wore the mask.  
As a baby, she'd been given up for adoption when her mother was abandoned by her father. After, her birth mother had vanished. But it had been for her good, because Jessica had been raised in a well-off, but loving family who had supported her dreams of becoming a chef in America. They had even been supportive of her marrying an American patisserie owner upon graduating from culinary school, then beginning her work as a sous chef for Paul Prudhomme and working alongside rising superchef Emeril LaGasse. But then it all crashed down during Mardi Gras.  
All Jessica had remembered of that night were shots firing into her and her husband Daniel's vehicle as they got ready to go home from the shop. She didn't awaken until 5 weeks later, after being placed in a medically-induced coma and undergoing surgeries that ended up saving her vital organs and her life. She had been shot 4 times and lived.  
Daniel, and their unborn baby girl, had not been so fortunate. They had died instantly. There would be no more children.  
The tears poured hot down her face as she continued to ride to her favorite thinking spot, where she often pondered the path her life had taken her. Today, she grieved as never before, her wailing echoing through the countryside, and faithfully, her horse, named Emeril, stood by her.

“Betty, how are you feeling?” Steven asked when he checked on her after lunch. She had been journaling per her psychotherapist's instructions, and she was shaking and weeping.  
“I don't want to remember this,” she sobbed, showing him the journal. “It hurts too much.”  
“You're trusting me to read this?”  
“If you'd like to. But there's ugly stuff in there.”  
Steven opened the journal, and received a shock.  
Betty's earliest memories of her childhood were of her father and 2 uncles taking turns raping her orally, vaginally, and anally at age 3. “Usually at 3, a girl sucks on an all-day lolly, not on her father's penis,” Betty had written. “Not me. And I was not willing.”  
“Dear God,” Steven realized. “I can see why you rarely talked about your family. What about your uncle from America?”  
Betty wept. “He was the black sheep. He actually tried to protect me, but me mum wouldn't let him.”  
“So your mother allowed it to happen.”  
“Yes.”  
This now explained everything. The boozing, the being lovestarved to the point of anorexic, all of it. Steven now closed the journal, then sat beside Betty and gently hugged her.  
“Why didn't you tell anyone?”  
“I was afraid. The abuse didn't stop when I got married, either. Only Ce-cil was the one abusing me, not me father.”  
“Did Cecil hit you?”  
“Yes, and he enjoyed doing it. He divorced me when I became pregnant and wouldn't abort the baby. The baby was his, but he didn't believe me. I had a lit-tle girl, and I couldn't raise her. So I put her up to be adopted. I haven't seen her since.”  
Steven paled. “That must be agony.”  
Steven now held Betty, soothing her as she wept.

It wasn't until half past noon when Maurice began to stir. Being of a rather slothful nature, and having made Mavis do most of the work around the farm, he stretched and yawned, then cuddled back into his nap.  
At that moment, “BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!” came the bleat-ing of the sheep.  
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!” Maurice screamed, the shock causing him to fall out of bed. He now saw the sheep, and became enraged.  
“What's them God-blessed sheep doin' back 'ere?!?” he erupted as he put on his clothes, then stomped out into the barnyard to look for Mavis. “Mavis! Mavis Anne Moulterd!” He shouted it again at the tops of his scrumpy-rotted lungs. “MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!”  
He looked around for her, when his calling for her brought no answer. “Huh, lazy cow probably ain't done 'er chores,” he grumbled. “That li'l bitch can't do anythin' right!”  
When he looked around, however, he found that the chores had been done. The potato bed was in good order, the livestock were warm and fed, the drains had been ratted out, the cow had been milked, the eggs had been gathered, and the furnace was well stoked. Still, that did not suit him, and he stomped angrily to the man-or.

“Has Mavis come back with Mr. Humphries yet?” Cuthbert asked as he looked out the kitchen window.  
“No, why?” Shirley replied.  
“Because Henry Heathcliff's brother from another mother just woke up,” Cuthbert said.  
“Uh-oh,” Shirley said.  
“Don't you worry, Shirley, I'm just in the mood,” Cuthbert assured her, girding himself for what was to come.  
At that, Maurice stormed into the manor kitchen. “Aw right, which 'a you knows where that no-good daugh'er 'a mine's got to?” he demanded.  
“She's gone with Mr. Humphries to get some supplies and to get a legal ins-pection on the car,” Cuthbert replied, “and for God's sake, don't you use that rude tone with me.”  
“I'll use any tone I like, Big-Ears!” Maurice erupted. “'Ere they's a mess 'a chores t'do, an' off she goes every time with that 'Umphries! An' what about them blessed sheep, eh? They b'long t'Malcolm 'Eathcliff!”  
Now Shirley rose to give him her two pence. “They was gonna slaughter them sheep!” she scolded. “You lied t'us an' said they was gonna be raised for wool!”  
“Don't matter, you silly cow, them's t'go t'Malcolm!” Maurice stated. “Them's Mavis's dowry!”  
“Her what?!” a shocked Cuthbert and Shirley said in unison.  
“First of all, that dratted daugh'er 'a mine owes Malcolm an apology fer runnin' 'round with that 'Umphries an' playin' 'ard t'get,” Maurice said. “An' second of all, she 'as t'apologize b'cause in 2 weeks' time, Malcolm's gonna be 'er 'usband!”  
It fully dawned on them now. “Mr. Moulterd, you've arranged for Mavis to marry the town bully?!” Cuthbert demanded.  
“Me an' 'Enry arranged it when they was both li'l, 'cause that's 'ow long Malcolm's fancied 'er,” Maurice said.  
“They's no way she's gonna do it!” Shirley erupted. “Number 1, she can't stand th' sight 'a 'im, an' number 2, in case you ain't figured it out yet, she 'appens t'be in love with Mr. 'Umphries, an' she'll tell you that 'erself!”  
“An' if she does defy me, I'll just 'afta give 'er th' strap, won't I?” Maurice said ominously.  
“Mr. Moulterd,” Cuthbert said, “Mavis may be your daughter, and you may do things differently in the country, but you need to keep in mind that she is a grown woman! She has the right to make her own decisions!”  
Maurice angrily shook his head. “Not about this, she don't,” he said. “So, whether you lot like it or not, whether that 'Umphries likes it or not, an' certainly whether Mavis likes it or not, she's marryin' Malcolm an' that's th' way it's gonna be!”  
As Maurice left, Steven and Betty came downstairs, and Jessica came in from outside. “I daresay, what's with him?” Jessica asked. “He damn near knocked me down!”  
“And he disturbed me from my nap!” Betty said.  
“It's t'do with them sheep, I'm afraid,” Shirley said, grabbing a Diet Coke from the icebox.  
“The sheep?” Steven asked.  
“I'm afraid so,” Cuthbert said. “Shirley and I just found out that Moul-terd intends them to be the dowry for an arranged marriage. He and Henry Heath-cliff made an arrangement between themselves to get Mavis married to Malcolm within the next 2 weeks, and Mavis has no knowledge of this.”  
“She'll never agree to it!” Betty piped up. “She's entirely too besotted with Mr. Humphries to give Malcolm the time of flippin' day!”  
“Try tellin' Moulterd,” Shirley said, “'e's threatened t'give 'er a good thrashin' if she don't go along with it. An' knowin' 'ow Mavis feels about Mr. 'Umphries, she'll most likely take that risk.”  
“What concerns me is how Mr. Humphries will react when he finds this out,” Steven said, “he'll be absolutely furious.”  
“That's what I'm afraid of,” Jessica said.

“I still can't figure what 'appened to th' sheep,” Malcolm wondered as he and Henry oversaw their farmhands with the livestock.  
“Malcolm, will ya quit worryin'? It'll work out,” Henry said.  
At that moment, Maurice arrived on his tractor and cart, with the sheep. “'Ey, that's Maurice!” Henry said, well pleased.  
Maurice parked the tractor, then got the sheep off the cart and brought them to Malcolm. “'Ere's yer sheep back, Malcolm,” Maurice grinned.  
Malcolm couldn't have been happier. “Maurice! How?” he asked.  
“They showed back up at Millstone Manor, an' I couldn't let you do without yer dowry payment,” Maurice grinned.  
“'Ave y'told Mavis yet?” Henry asked.  
“Not yet, she's in th' village with that 'Umphries,” Maurice grumbled. “But I will when she gets back, don't you worry.”  
Malcolm now hugged Maurice. “Thank you,” he grinned.  
“Aw, don't mention it,” Maurice said. “I toldja, you an' Mavis will be t'gether, an' I'm gonna keep me word.”

Steven was doing his yoga meditations when he suddenly burst forth into wee-ping.  
It had been two years, two years since that terrible day, when he had lost his wife Olivia.  
They had had their problems due to her bipolar depression, but his roving eye had not helped matters. Even so, he had loved her, and even now her death hurt him.  
He had sensed something was wrong, and had gotten permission from Cuthbert and Young Mr. Grace to come home early to check on her. And as he'd walked through the door, he'd seen her with the pistol, the barrel aimed upward in her mouth.  
Then she had fired,  
The memory of Olivia dying in his arms was as fresh and traumatic as it had been the day she had died. And he had tried to pursue Jessica as a way of taking his mind off of Olivia's death, but he hadn't succeeded. All it had done was re-mind him of Olivia, how his dalliances had not only hurt her, but most likely had driven her to take her own life. And anyway, Jessica was a child.  
Unable to continue the meditation, Steven went to the bathroom, only to sink down to the floor, sobbing for his lost wife.

Cuthbert, meanwhile, was having his own dilemma.  
It had been thrilling seeing Shirley again after Young Mr. Grace's passing, especially after his wife Cordelia had divorced him to marry Mr. Prentice of the Grace Brothers packing department. Ever since her first day at Grace Brothers, Cuthbert had had a soft place in his heart for Shirley, because he had remembered her from his youth.  
He had been a street kid, turned out of his home by his drunken parents at 12, and had found acceptance in a gang in Catford, where Shirley had spent her formative years. One day, the gang decided they liked the 12-year-old Shirley's looks, and set out to attack her.  
Cuthbert, however, stopped them. He was 18 at this time, and he felt it would be wrong to commit a rape, especially the rape of a small chlld. He suffered a brutal beating and was thrown out of the gang for trying to protect Shirley.  
Shirley, for her part, had never forgotten how “Knuckles” had tried to stand in the gap for her and prevent the rape, but the assault had left her traumatized well into her middle age. Now, she saw her beauty as a curse, because she had been sexually harassed and assaulted several times since the first rape, and during the live Punch and Judy show at Grace Brothers one Christmas, she had even been beaten up by Dick Lucas because she would not have sex with him. He had used the Punch and Judy show to legitimately inflict the beating, and afterward she had had to be taken to the hospital. That was why he had been sacked by Grace Brothers, after all, and once again Cuthbert had stood in the gap for her.  
Wil had called the ambulance, and the others had hovered over her, but Cuth-bert never left her side for a minute, in spite of the bitch he had married.  
Inwardly, Cuthbert and Shirley couldn't stop thinking about each other, al-though outwardly they shut off such feelings. Besides, she still had to diffuse Celia Littlewood, the openly lesbian magistrate who had taken a shine to her, and he had to learn to move on from Cordelia.  
Then, and only then, did they feel that they could pursue each other.

“Thank you fer th' flowers, Wil,” Mavis chirped, holding the armful of burnt orange and yellow roses in her hands and smelling their sweet aroma. “Oh, they smell smashin'.”  
“You deserve them, Mavis,” Wil replied. “You're too beautiful a girl to do without beautiful things. That's why I got them.”  
“An' I'll always treasure them,” she said, gently kissing his cheek. He smiled, then continued the drive to the manor.  
Where Maurice was pulling in on his tractor and cart, pulling in alongside them as they began to unload the supplies. “I wonder what Dad wants,” she said.  
“Who knows?” Wil said, already smelling a rat.  
Maurice now came down off the tractor, then approached. “Mavis,” he said, his tone so sweet butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, “d'ya 'ave a few minutes? I gotta talk t'you about somethin'.”  
“Can it wait, Dad?” she asked. “Me an' Mr. 'Umphries just got back from town, an' we're unloadin' the supplies.”  
“Now, Mavis? I really gotta talk t'you,” he pleaded.  
“I could go with you, if you like,” Wil offered.  
Mavis thought a second. “No, Wil. Whatever it is, I need t'sort this out on me own,” she said. “I 'ope y'don't mind.”  
“Are you sure?” Wil asked.  
“I am,” Mavis said.  
She then kissed him on the cheek, then went to talk to her father.

As soon as Wil had the supplies put away, he went to his and Mavis's room, and set about arranging her roses in a pair of vases. His train of thought was in-terrupted, however, when Steven came in.  
“You haven't let Mavis go talk to her father, have you?” Steven asked.  
“Yes, just a bit ago,” Wil replied.  
“Oh, God,” Steven winced. This alarmed Wil.  
“Steven, is there something I need to know?”  
Steven now set his face with angry concern. “Remember those sheep we took back from Malcolm Heathcliff and his father?”  
“I do.”  
“Mr. Moulterd took them back over there while you and Mavis were in town! Wil, he intends them to be the bloody dowry for an arranged marriage!”  
Now it was Wil's turn to be alarmed. “What?!”  
“Yes! Mr. Moulterd and Henry Heathcliff have arranged for Mavis to marry Malcolm 2 weeks from now! Moulterd said so himself! And he's willing to go to any lengths to force her to do it!”  
“Including giving her a beating.”  
Wil threw down his work, then bolted downstairs, through the kitchen, and out the door, nearly knocking Shirley down in the process. “'Ere, what's goin' on?” she demanded.  
“Shirley, there's not any time! Call the police, now!” Steven said.  
“The police?” Jessica said.  
“Yes, and ring an ambulance, too! Hurry!” Steven said, bolting out right behind Wil.  
“Good Heavens,” Cuthbert realized, going to the phone.  
Now Betty, Jessica, and Shirley came to their own conclusion. “Mavis!” they all said in unison, following Steven and Wil out.

Wil ran into the farmyard, looking for Mavis, and was almost run over by Maurice in his tractor as he headed back to the Heathcliff estate.  
“'Ey, watch it!” Maurice scolded.  
“I'll give you 'watch it,'” Wil mumbled angrily, now turning his attention to the woodshed.  
He now noticed that it was locked tight, something it almost never had been. He tried the door, to release the lock. Nothing.  
“Damn it!” he erupted. He now heard pained whimpering from inside, and realized what had happened.  
“Mavis? Mavis!” he called out, banging on the door. “Are you in there? Mavis!”  
The weeping continued. “Willy,” she sobbed from behind the door.  
Wil now looked for something, anything, to take out the locks. He now found the large ballpeen hammer used to split logs, picked it up, and began to bang away at the locks as everyone came out.  
“Ambulance is on the way,” Cuthbert said.  
“Is she in there?” Shirley asked.  
“What do you think?” Wil asked, the locks now falling away with the final blow. He now opened the doors.  
“Oh, no,” Betty wept as the doors opened.  
Mavis was semiconscious at this point, and going into shock from the brutali-ty of the beating. Maurice had done far more than give her the strap this time. “Get a blanket!” Wil shouted, going in to carry her out.  
Jessica complied, going to the groom's quarters and getting two to wrap Mavis in. She spread one on the ground, and Wil carried Mavis to the blanket and lay her down. Then he and Jessica bundled her up in both blankets to keep her warm.  
“Where's that damn ambulance?!” Wil demanded as he tended to Mavis, as the sirens now approached the manor.

Mavis was so severely injured that she would have to be airlifted to St. Ma-ry's hospital in London from Great Tender Memorial. She had four fractured ribs, her right arm had been broken, her face was heavily bruised, and her entire body was bruised and cut up from Maurice giving her the strap to go with the other inju-ries.  
Sir Robert was not surprised at what had happened, and gladly took Wil's pe-tition to press charges on Mavis's behalf. “Don't worry, Mr. Humphries,” he as-sured him, “Maurice has gotten away with this for far too long. There's no way he's going to bribe himself out of this now.”  
“What about the dowry arrangement he made with the Heathcliffs?” Wil asked.  
“Since Mavis has rejected the arrangement, it's worthless. It's worthless, anyway,” Sir Robert said. “As far as I'm concerned, the Heathcliffs and Maurice keeping this arranged marriage business on the village charter is pure bollocks.”  
“You're not joking,” Wil said angrily. “I'm going for a coffee.”  
“Mr. Humphries, what are you up to?” Cuthbert asked.  
“Something I should have done a long damned time ago,” Wil stated, going to the hospital cafe.  
Upon arriving there, he came face to face with a smug Malcolm. “What're you doing here?” Wil asked.  
“I came t'do ya a favor,” Malcolm said.  
“And that is?”  
“A choice. Either you give up Mavis an' let me 'ave 'er, or you give up breathin'. It's up t'you, mate.”  
Wil had a think for a second. “Erm. Y'know, I rather do love breathing.”  
Malcolm arched his eyebrow. Then Wil lowered the boom.  
“But I love Mavis more.”  
At that, Malcolm swung at Wil and missed, prompting Wil to land a bonecrun-ching left across Malcolm's cheek, then grab his right arm and twist it behind him until it almost broke. “Get the Hell out of here!” he shouted, giving him the bum's rush out of the hospital.  
When Wil came back to himself, he found Shirley and Betty standing there. They had seen the altercation.  
“Blimey, where'd that come from?” Betty asked.  
Wil regarded them gently, then headed out to settle another score.

Maurice had had to hide out at the Heathcliffs' while the police had been at Millstone Manor, and one of Henry and Malcolm's lookouts now saw Malcolm, the shi-ner fresh on his face and his arm sore, bicycling back home.  
“Blimey, son, what 'appened t'you?” Henry asked.  
“It was that 'Umphries,” Malcolm said. “I gave 'im th' ultimatum, an' as you can see, 'e said no.”  
“Oh, God,” Henry said. “It's okay, boy. Go put some ice on your eye.”  
“Yes, Dad,” Malcolm said, going to do just that.  
Now Henry turned to Maurice. “Now what do we do?” Henry asked. “That 'Umphries is turnin' out t'be more dangerous than we thought.”  
“B'lieve me, 'Enry, I sure don't like it,” Maurice said. “I'm gonna take th' shortcut back to th' manor.”  
“Be careful, Maurice, you know the police is lookin' fer you,” Henry said.  
Maurice now headed back to the manor, taking the shortest route so as not to be detected by the local constabulary. Upon entering the manor kitchen, he realiz-ed no one was home.  
The coast was clear. Or so he thought.  
As he was pouring himself a pint of Guinness, the slamming of the kitchen door. “Right, old man, explain y'self,” the familiar voice hissed. Maurice turned with a start, spilling his stout.  
Wil.  
“Now look, ya spilt me beer!” Maurice scolded, repouring what had come out.  
“I said, explain y'self. Go on,” Wil demanded.  
“Can't ya leave well enough alone, 'Umphries?” Maurice scolded. “'Ere I 'ad Mavis all set t'get married, an' look what ya made me do - !”  
“I didn't cause that, you withered old git! You of all people should know Mavis never wanted to be with Malcolm. But you didn't take that into consideration when you set up that dowry, now did you?”  
Maurice sipped his beer. “Well, I wouldn't 'ave give 'er that beatin' if she'd done what I told 'er t'do! She shoulda married Malcolm! But what 'appened instead? She fell in love with you an' turned into a disobedient li'l cow 'oo won't mind 'er place!”  
“Is it so wrong for her to make her own decisions, Maurice? She doesn't want to be with another bully when she's already been raised by one - !”  
“Malcolm's th' perfec' man fer 'er!”  
Maurice now went back to his Guinness, but Wil angrily backhanded the pint glass out of his hand, causing it break into dozens of shards on the kitchen floor. “He doesn't even love Mavis! Open y'damned eyes, you drunken prig!”  
Maurice now stood to his full height, challenging Wil. “'E don't love 'er, eh? 'Ow would you know that?”  
Wil held his ground. “Because unlike your dear friend Malcolm, I do. I love Mavis.” Wil now turned to leave. “At least someone does.”  
As it sank in, Maurice sat dumbfounded, and did not resist when the consta-bulary came to arrest him.

“Diana, we got an airlift from Great Tender in triage,” Dr. Lane Connolly said, reporting to one of the surgeons on call, Dr. Diana Yardswick-Taylor. “A Mavis Anne Moulterd.”  
“Right, what happened to her?” Diana asked.  
“'Er father beat 'er up when she wouldn't go along with an arranged mar-riage,” Dr. Connolly replied.  
“She's from Great Tender, all right,” Diana said. “We've gotten a lot of those lately. 'Ow is she?”  
“She's been goin' in an' outta shock, her right arm is broken, she has four fractured ribs, heavy bruising and lacerations,” Dr. Connolly said.  
“Does she have other next of kin?”  
“No, but some of her friends are here.”  
“Right, I'll go talk to them.”  
Diana went to the triage waiting area, and was surprised to find Steven, Bet-ty, Shirley, Jessica and Cuthbert. “You're with Miss Moulterd?” she asked. “But you was at Grace Brothers!”  
“We inherited a country inn as our pension when Young Mr. Grace died while scuba diving,” Steven said. “I had no idea you were a doctor now, Diana.”  
“Yeah, the Grace Brothers canteen put me through medical school so I could better support my son,” she said.  
“Will Mavis be all right?” Shirley asked.  
“I 'ave t'look at 'er first, Shirley,” Diana said. “Where's Mr. 'Umph-ries? 'E not with you?”  
“He's on his way up,” Betty said, “and he's the reason Mavis refused that arranged marriage. She's in love with him, and we suspect he feels the same.”  
“Oh, that's a new one,” Diana said. “I remember that 'e always 'ad a problem findin' somebody t'love. Not t'mention 'is mum bein' 'ow she is.”  
“Oh, I know,” Shirley said.  
“Right, I'm gonna go check on Mavis,” Diana said. “It was good to see you all again.”  
“Thank you, Dr. Yardswick - !” Cuthbert began.  
“It's Yardswick-Taylor now. I got remarried,” Diana chirped. “See you lot in a bit.”  
As she headed to triage, Wil now returned. “Was that our former canteen ma-nageress?” he asked.  
“She's a doctor now,” Cuthbert replied.  
“So 'ow'd it go with ol' Moulterd?” Shirley asked.  
“Well, he knows now, as you all do, that I love her,” Wil said. “His jaw hit the floor when I told him off, too.”  
“I think all our jaws dropped when you finally fessed up,” Shirley noted.  
“I'll say. Especially after that hiding you gave to Malcolm in the cafe,” Steven said.  
“I came as soon as I heard,” a familiar voice said now. The others turned.  
Wil's mother Annie.  
“Mother, you came all this way?” Wil asked.  
“Well, I couldn't let you worry over sweet Mavis by y'self,” Annie noted. “Oh, her father ought to be hanged for what he did.”  
“Mrs. Humphries, how did you get here?” Cuthbert asked.  
“That nice chap and his friend over there,” Annie said, pointing to Sir Ro-bert and Celia. “I was headed to me bingo game, they saw me, realized who I was, and gave me the 4711 on the way.”  
“That's the 411, mother,” Wil grinned.  
“Oh, you cheeky boy,” Annie teased.  
Celia now sat beside Shirley. “Are you okay, dear?” she asked.  
“I'm good, considerin' I'm not th' one 'oo got beat up,” Shirley replied.  
“Oh, I know it,” Celia said. “That awful father of hers and the Heath-cliffs have run over the village as long as I can remember.”  
“What's happened, Sir Robert?” Jessica asked.  
“We've arrested Maurice Moulterd,” Sir Robert said, “and that's the good news. The bad news is, Henry Heathcliff posted his bail just an hour ago.”  
“That doesn't surprise me,” Betty said disgustedly.  
Now Diana came back out. “Mavis has come out of shock and is resting,” she said, “but she'll need an operation on her arm. It was broken in two places. In the meantime, she'll have to rest for several days. Her right cheekbone was also broken where her father struck her with his fist.”  
“Oh, God,” Betty wept.  
“Shirley, would you like to go for some coffee?” Celia now offered.  
“Nah, I'll stay 'ere. Thanks, though,” Shirley said, quickly diffusing her without hurting her feelings. Celia quickly took the hint and backed away.

“Thanks fer bailin' me out,” Maurice said when he and Henry were hea-ded to the Heathcliff estate from Millstone Manor, after Maurice had gotten  
his things.  
“Think nothin' of it, Maurice. You're me mate,” Henry said. “I jus' can't b'lieve that 'Umphries actually loves Mavis.”  
“At least now we know why 'e rang Malcolm's jaws awhile ago,” Maurice said. “'Ow is 'e?”  
“Not 'appy,” Henry said, “but the arrangement still stands. Once Mavis is outta the 'ospital, she's marryin' Malcolm.”  
“Oh, yes she will,” Maurice agreed “I got 'er dress already picked out.”

Two days later, Mavis was prepped for surgery, and Wil didn't leave her for a second.  
“Willy, I'm scared,” she sobbed, having never undergone such a seri-ous operation before.  
“Mavis, I'll be right here when you come out. I'm not leaving you,” he assured her.  
“Promise me,” she said.  
“I'll be right here,” he said.  
“Promise me, Willy.”  
Wil smiled. “I promise. I love you.”  
Mavis pulled him in for a soft kiss. “I love you, Willy.”  
Wil went with her as they wheeled her in, stopping short at the double doors leading to the ER.  
“It's all right, Mavis, we'll take good care of ya,” Diana assured her, gently dabbing her brow with a damp cloth as they prepared to put her under for the operation.  
“Dr. Taylor, I 'ope so,” Mavis said drowsily as the sedation took effect. Once she was asleep and on oxygen, Diana examined Mavis's broken arm.  
“Right, you lot, we 'ave a lot of work t'do,” Diana said, “that is one nasty fracture.”

Late that evening, a call at the manor. “Millstone Manor, Cuthbert Rumbold speaking,” Cuthbert said.  
“Cuth, it's Wil,” Wil replied. “Mavis made it through just fine.”  
“Thank heaven for that,” Cuthbert said. He then turned to the oth-ers. “Mavis made it through her surgery.”  
“Thank God,” Betty chirped.  
“Wil, when will you be back here?” Cuthbert asked.  
“Not until Mavis recovers enough to come home, that's for sure,” Wil said. “And if her father and Malcolm get up in me airspace and try to force that marriage, they'll get their bums handed right back to them.”  
Just then, Cuthbert saw Maurice head toward the manor, bearing a dress bag. “Uh-oh,” Cuthbert said, “you may get your chance. I'll ring you back in half an hour.”  
Maurice now came in. “Well,” Steven said crisply, “headed to a fan-cy dress at the Heathcliffs'?”  
“Very funny, Peacock, yer a funny man,” Maurice replied sarcastical-ly. “This 'ere's Mavis's weddin' dress.”  
“Oh. Still bent on 'er marryin' Malcolm, are we?” Shirley fumed. “Look, she an' Mr. 'Umphries 'ave both told you, it ain't gonna 'appen.”  
“Oh, yes it will!” Maurice scolded. “Deal's a deal! An' I don't care if that 'Umphries does love 'er! She's gonna learn t'love Malcolm, an' she's gonna marry Malcolm while she's at it!”  
“Oh, Maurice, give it a damned rest!” Betty now said. “It's no won-der your own wife left – you probably treated her as badly as you've treat-ed your child over the years!”  
“Don't start with me!” Maurice protested. “Y'want me t'give you a good thrashin'?!”  
“You've done it before, so you threatening me again damn sure doesn't surprise me!” Betty erupted. “Far as I'm concerned, you're no better than Cecil damned Slocombe!”  
“I treated ya good, Lovey!” Maurice insisted.  
“You treated me like I was your personal punching bag! Why do you think I want nothing to do with you now?” Betty reminded him. “And when I married Cecil, he liked to hit me, too! You two would make the perfect cou-ple!”  
“Lovey - !” Maurice pleaded, but Betty turned on her heel and left the lobby, with Steven close behind.  
“Betty, what's going on?” Steven asked as they went to her room. “I've seen you infuriated, but not like this! Did Moulterd abuse you, too?”  
“He did,” Betty said. “And knowing how he's treated Mavis has real-ly got me pissed off.”  
“Yes, you really lit into him just now,” Steven noted.  
“Believe me, he had it coming,” Betty noted, turning to her cat Tid-dles, a pretty, long-haired grey cat who quickly jumped into her lap once she sat down on her bed.  
“Just like Malcolm had it coming when Mr. Humphries punched him in the face,” Steven agreed.  
Shirley and Cuthbert now came up. “Moulterd's gone,” Cuthbert said. “He's still determined to see the marriage take place, I'm afraid.”  
“That figures,” Betty grumbled.  
“Say,” Shirley realized, “where's Jessica?”

“What do you mean, the Heathcliffs and Mr. Moulterd have called an em-ergency town hall meeting on this matter?”Jessica said worriedly. “Isn't Mavis's refusing this arranged marriage enough to convince them to leave her be?”  
“You'd think so, Jess, but I'm afraid it's not that easy,” Sir Robert noted. “The laws in the village charter permitting such arrangements have been on the books since the village was founded in 1402, and they've never been stricken. They've been challenged, of course, but they've never been stricken from the charter. And the Heathcliff and Moulterd families have been the main supporters of this law.”  
“All except Mavis,” Jessica said.  
“As well as Mavis's mother Mary,” Sir Robert said. “She was in love with another farmer from the village, a man who loved her dearly, but her father felt Moulterd was a better match for her because he liked to hit wo-men. His sick way of keeping them in check. And his friendship with the Heathcliffs goes back to when he and Henry were children.”  
“Tell me, Sir Robert, what happened to Mavis's mother?”  
“The story is, she took off with that other farmer. But he had vanis-hed long before her disappearance. Still, most of the village is too afraid to not go along with this urban legend.”  
“Well, I certainly don't buy it. You shouldn't, either.”  
“I don't. But the Heathcliffs are the wealthiest family in this vil-lage. Their net worth makes the royal family look like paupers – and with  
Moulterd being their pet supporter and as much of a bully as them, they have most of the village afraid of them.”  
“Dear God. When's the meeting?”  
“Friday evening. I think your friends from Millstone Manor need to be there.”  
“Oh, we'll be there, all right. And if we get a live Skype feed go-ing, we can have Mr. Humphries and Mavis present from the hospital.”  
“He's the one Mavis actually loves, isn't he?”  
“He is. And he feels the same for her.”  
“Splendid. The more we can get in opposition, the better.”

“An emergency meetin'?!” Shirley exclaimed when Jessica told everyone later. “Are they that desperate?”  
“Apparently,” Jessica said. “This much is for sure, Mr. Moulterd and the Heathcliffs have anticipated further opposition.”  
“Oh, we're going to be at the meeting,” Cuthbert said, “for no oth-er reason than to be a support for Mr. Humphries and Mavis.”  
“I've got a laptop computer,” Jessica said, “and I have a Skype ac-count. All we need to do is line up Mr. Humphries and Mavis on Skype, and they can be at the meeting, as well.”  
“What a good idea,” Betty said. “You line it up, and we'll take care of things here.”  
“Sir Robert has Skype, so that won't be a problem,” Jessica said, heading to the groom's quarters to get her laptop before heading out. “Cheers.”  
“Cheers,” Shirley said.  
“Is it me, or is Jess behaving a lot kinder now?” Steven asked.  
“Y'know, she is,” Shirley noticed. “She's not nearly as tarty as she usually is. I wonder what's 'appened?”  
“She really has a kind heart, despite the snarkiness,” Cuthbert said. “She's had a difficult last few years herself.”  
“Why, what happened to her?” Betty asked.  
“Well, she was put up for adoption when she was a baby, after her birth parents split up, but it was for her good. She was adopted by a very loving couple,” Cuthbert said.  
“So where was the difficulty?” Steven asked.  
“She actually wanted to be a chef in America. Of course, her adoptive parents supported that dream,” Cuthbert said. “She once worked alongside the likes of Paul Prudhomme and Emeril LaGasse, and she was even happily married to a patisserie owner in New Orleans and was expecting a baby. But then it all went south. Her adoptive parents were killed in a car wreck, and her husband and her unborn child were killed as a result of a drive-by shooting during Mardi Gras. She was in a coma for several weeks as doctors worked to save her life.”  
“Dear God,” Betty said. “That explains everything.”  
“I'll say,” Shirley realized.  
Now Betty paled. “I need to go upstairs,” Betty said, heading back up to her room. She didn't make it.  
“Betty!” Steven exclaimed as she collapsed in the throes of a massive heart attack. Steven now ran to her and began CPR. “Please, Betty, stay with me!”  
Cuthbert now ran to the phone. “This is Cuthbert Rumbold!” he shout-ed. “We need an ambulance at Millstone Manor immediately!”  
“Who's it for?” the operator asked.  
“Betty Slocombe! She's having a heart attack! Get your asses down here!” Cuthbert erupted.

Wil was reading a magazine as Mavis slept when Jessica arrived with her laptop. “Hello, Jessica, what brings you here?”he asked.  
“The Heathcliffs and Mr. Moulterd have called an emergency meeting about the arranged marriage law on Great Tender's charter,” she said. “My computer has a Skype account, and Sir Robert's does as well. This way, you and Mavis can be at the meeting.”  
“Oh, smashing,” Wil chirped.  
Just then, Steven ran in. Wil did not like the look on his face. “Steven, what's happened?” he asked.  
“It's Betty,” Steven explained, “she's had a heart attack.”  
“OhmiGod,” Jessica said.  
“Will she be all right?” Wil asked.  
“She's critical, but they think she'll recover. She's in ICU,” Ste-ven said. He then turned to Jessica. “Jess, are they hooked up yet?”  
“No, but they will be,” Jessica chirped, plugging into the wi-fi and getting online. She then turned on her Skype. “Can you hear me, Sir Robert?”  
“I can, Jessica,” Sir Robert said. “Can you hear me, Mr. Humph-ries?”  
“I can see you, too,” Wil said.  
“How's Mavis?” Sir Robert asked.  
“She's sleeping,” Wil replied.  
“Good, good,” Sir Robert said. “Jessica's got you fixed up for the meeting Friday. See you then.”  
“Thank you, Sir Robert,” Wil said.

When Mavis awoke, she saw the laptop, a lot of yellow and orange roses in vases, and Wil seated right beside her. “Willy, what's that thing?” she asked.  
“It's a laptop computer, dear,” he grinned.  
“I've never seen one of those in the country,” she said. “I've nev-er even been on the internet.”  
“No, but I can imagine that wretch your father wants you to marry has,” Wil fumed.  
“You're not wrong,” Mavis agreed. “What's 'appened?”  
“Malcolm, his father, and your father have called an emergency meeting of the village council regarding the arranged marriages law on the village charter,” Wil said. “They've decided that your father beating you up wasn't enough to force the issue.”  
“They can't do that!”  
“I know, dear. That's why Jessica Lovelock brought her computer for us to use. She has this Skype call-in thing on her computer, so we can be at the meeting while you're still here in bed.”  
“That's comfortin' t'know.”  
“That's not all. Something happened to cause Betty to have a heart attack just a few hours ago.”  
“What? Oh, God.”  
“Mavis, she'll be okay. She's critical right now, but the doctors think she'll be okay. She'll just need to make some lifestyle adjustments, such as in her eating habits and her drinking.”  
“Yeah, she'll 'ave t'give up th' booze now.”  
“Exactly, and that won't be easy for her.  
Mavis now smiled and gripped his hand. “Thanks fer keepin' your word.”  
Wil smiled back and cradled her hand in both of his. “How could I not, dear? I love you.”  
“I love you.”  
They then kissed softly, Mavis cupping his cheek with her unbandaged hand.

“What're you fixing, Shirley?” Cuthbert asked as he came into the kitchen and saw Shirley at the stove, cooking.  
“You might not like it,” Shirley said. “It's an Indonesian chicken dish, cold noodle salad with peanut dressing, and stir-fry vegetables. I've also got some sambal on the side t'go with it.”  
“Actually, I rather like spicy food,” Cuthbert said.  
“Do you?” she asked.  
“I do. I'm not altogether boring, y'know.”  
“I know. C'mon, I'll fill ya a plate.”  
Shirley filled them each a plate, then they sat down to dinner, with milk to drink to cool off the heat of the meal. “Say, Cubby, if I may call you that, 'ow come y'never told me b'fore?”  
“About liking spicy food?”  
“No. About lovin' me.”  
Cuthbert broke into a prodigious sweat. “Y...you know?”  
“I do. That 'ole episode with th' gun b'fore Moulterd d'cided t'pull 'is stunt with tryin' t'get Mavis married t'Malcolm brought it all back. You was th' bloke 'oo tried t'stop your gang from rapin' me.”  
“You remember.”  
“I remember. I never got t'thank you for tryin' t'protect me, even though your ex-gang still attacked me. An' for what it's worth, I owe you an apology.”  
“For what?”  
“Callin' you 'Jug-Ears,' for starters. I shouldn't 'ave done that.”  
“Shirley, everyone at Grace Brothers called me 'Jug-Ears.' To be ho-nest, it wasn't a sore point with me.”  
“So what was a sore point?”  
“Never knowing what to expect from my ex-wife Cordelia while we were married. I did everything I could to be a good husband to her, to better myself so I could better provide for her and be good to her, but she still thought I was half a man.”  
“But you was anythin' but 'alf a man. You took a beatin' for me when you was a teenager an' almost died.”  
“I know. But if I'd done that for Cordelia, she'd have laughed in my face.”  
“I'm not laughin', Cubby. I love you.”  
And now Shirley kissed him, a soft peck on the lips at first, followed by another. And another. Finally, Cuthbert cradled her face in his hands and kissed her with a passion he had not felt in such a long time, and she welcomed the caress.  
“You were the first to see what Wil had with Mavis,” Cuthbert noted when they gently broke the kiss.  
“An' you saw what we can 'ave b'fore I did,” Shirley grinned.  
“I love you.”  
“I love you.” Then they continued to kiss.

After 5 days in a medically-induced coma, Betty awakened in the ICU un-it at St. Mary's, weakened, but otherwise all right.  
“What's happened?” she asked.  
“You're all right, Betty,” Steven said. “You had a heart attack.”  
“A heart attack?”  
“Yes. We were talking about Jessica, and something caused you to col-lapse. They gave you a triple heart bypass while you were out of it.”  
“Oh, God.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “It's her.”  
“Her?”  
“Jessica. She's me daughter.”  
Now Steven turned pale. “Your daughter?”  
“The daughter I 'ad to give up. She dropped something out of her purse the other day, an' I saw it before I had a chance to give it to her.” Betty now gave it to him.  
It was a picture of Jessica shortly after she was born. “Go into me purse,” Betty urged, “I 'ave th' same picture.”  
Steven did. The photos were a perfect match. “OhmiGod,” he said, “she is yours. Does she know?”  
“She does now,” a soft voice now said from the door.  
Jessica.  
“I...think I'd better let you two talk,” Steven said, excusing him-self now.  
Jessica now pulled up a chair in front of a remorseful Betty. “I'm sorry, Jess,” Betty sobbed. “I should've made a go of bein' your mum in-stead of being so afraid.”  
Jessica gently took her hand and put her at ease. “Mum, please don't cry. What you did turned out good for me,” she said.  
“How? Your adoptive parents got killed. So did your husband and your baby.”  
“But it still turned out for my good. Yes I've had a lot to cope with, and I've hidden my true self behind a mask of bitchery, but I can't hide anymore. Neither should you. I know you did it to protect me from your father and from Cecil, and that's nothing to apologize for. None of it is.”  
“So you forgive me?”  
“Mum, there's nothing to forgive. You did what you needed to. And I love you for it. You're my mum.”  
“Oh, Jess,” Betty wept as she and Jessica now hugged.  
Steven saw through the door, smiling softly at their reconciliation. Now Diana walked up.  
“I see Betty's up,” she grinned.  
“Yes. She just mended things with her daughter,” Steven said.  
“Miss Lovelock's 'er kid?”  
“Yes. It's complicated, but they've mended things.”  
“That's lovely. I wish I could've mended it with me son b'fore 'e d'cided on a life 'o crime.”  
“Could we talk, Diana?”  
“Sure. I 'ave a break for the next 'our. C'mon, I'll treat you to a coffee.”  
They went to the hospital cafe, where Diana bought them each a coffee, and they sat and talked.  
“What happened to your son?” Steven asked.  
“I tried t'raise 'im right, an' me 'usband Craig tried t' 'elp me get 'im straightened out,” Diana said. “Problem is, 'e liked th' rock cocaine more than 'e like th' idea of university, so now 'e's runnin' th' streets with his druggy buddies. I ain't spoke to 'im in 3 years.”  
“That must be agony.”  
“You 'ave no idea. An' for what it's worth, I never got a chance t'tell you 'ow sorry I was when Mrs. Peacock died.”  
“It's not been an easy road, Diana. In fact, it's been really trau-matic to deal with.”  
“I know. I won't ask you the particulars, but I remember 'earin' 'bout you leavin' Grace Brothers early that day. I also remember 'earin' th' sirens goin' t'your 'ouse th' day she died, an' that you were th' one 'oo found 'er.”  
“I don't mind telling you. I had talked to Olivia on the phone earli-er that day, and sensed something was the matter. So I went straight home. As I opened the door, she had the barrel of my pistol turned upward in her mouth, and before I could stop her she pulled the trigger. She died in my arms.” Now Steven wept.  
“I know. I was still an intern 'ere when they brought 'er in, b'fore they took 'er to th' medical examiner. I couldn't b'lieve it was 'er.” Diana now gripped Steven's hand. “Anytime you need t'talk t'someone, you come t'me. Call me or me 'usband anytime, okay? We're in th' phone book.”  
“I'd like that,” Steven wept.

“Malcolm, ya can't be serious,” Jesse Dimbleby, Malcolm's best mate since their youth, said incredulously. “Ya know Mavis wants nothin' t'do with you, an' yer still bent on marryin' 'er?”  
“Yer forgettin', Jesse, ol' Maurice promised 'er t'me years ago,” Malcolm reminded him. “An' frankly, I don't care if th' bitch is in love with that 'Umphries. She's marryin' me.”  
“Malcolm, you don't even love 'er!”  
“So? It's all arranged, Jesse. Either Mavis marries me, or she'll wish she wasn't even born!”  
It now dawned on Jesse. “No, Malcolm. I'm not gonna stand by an' watch you an' ol' Maurice railroad 'er inta this!”  
Malcolm took Jesse at face value. “Look, Jesse, either you stand at th' church with me like a good li'l boy on me weddin' day, or say goodbye to our friendship.”  
Jesse didn't even think twice. “No, Malcolm.” He then turned on his heel, got on his bicycle, and left, Malcolm cursing at him as he pedaled aw-ay.  
This brought out Henry, who'd heard the exchange. “Mal, what's th' matter?” he asked.  
“It's that damn Jesse,” Malcolm fumed. “Me an' 'im's not on th' same page no more.”  
“What d'ya mean?”  
“~E's all of a sudden not fer th' marriage!”  
Henry was sympathetic. “It's all right, boy,” he said. “Friend like 'im, ya don't need enemies. C'mon, let's start to th' killin' shed on them sheep.”  
“Right,” Malcolm said, following his dad to the killing shed.

Friday morning, Steven went to Mavis's room to talk to Wil. Mavis was resting, and Wil was asleep in the nearby recliner, unkempt and unshaven. He had been true about not leaving Mavis's side.  
“Wil? Wil, wake up,” Steven said, gently nudging Wil awake.  
“Uh?” Wil yawned. He now saw Steven. “Hi, Steven.”  
“Why don't you go to your mother's for a bit? Get yourself a hot bath and a change of clothes?” Steven offered. “I'll stay with Mavis.”  
“What about Betty?” Wil asked.  
“Oh, she's fine. Her daughter's with her.”  
“Her daughter? But Betty hasn't seen her daughter in years. How?”  
“Jessica. She's her daughter.”  
“OhmiGod. How did Jessica find out?”  
“Betty told me, and Jessica heard it. And they've reconciled their former differences. They're getting to know each other now.”  
“That's good. But I don't want to leave Mavis. What if that damned Malcolm shows up?”  
“~E can't,” Mavis now said. “~E's in th' same straits as me dad. 'E's under a restrainin' order an' ain't allowed t'come near me. In any case, Capt. Peacock's right, Wil. Y'need a nice 'ot bath.”  
Wil was still concerned. “Dear, he could violate the order. You of all people know how psychotic Malcolm is – he won't stay out of your air-pace for any reason, not even for that.”  
“Well, Mavis, that's why I'm here. And hospital security has been alerted, too. So you're overruled, Wil.”  
Wil smiled now. “Oh, all right. Keep an eye on her while I'm at me mother's. I won't be long.” He now leaned over and kissed Mavis softly. “I love you.”  
“I love you, Willy,” Mavis chirped as Wil now left.

End of Part One


	2. Keeping Secrets, Telling Stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part of the continuation of GRACE & FURY, which, I promise, will be completed soon.

GRACE & FURY, PART 2

“Oh, Wilberforce, you look a fright,” Annie said when Wil came in from the hospital. “Here, I'll run a hot bath for you.  
“Thank, Mother,” Wil said, pouring a hot coffee in his mug and taking it neat, then following her to the loo.  
“How's Mavis?”  
“Oh, she's better. She'll be going home next week.”  
“Does she know?”  
“That I love her?”  
“Not just that, dear. Everything.”  
“Yes, Mother, she knows.”  
Annie set the towels and a fresh change of clothes and boxers on the closed toilet seat and gave Wil his soap and shampoo. “Just take y'time, dear,” she said. “You could use a shave, too.”  
“You're not wrong, Mother,” Wil said. “Thank you.”  
Moments later, as he sank into the tub, Wil began to think of the direction his life had taken, that had led him to this.  
Like everyone else, he was also hiding behind a mask, only his was of being a preening wimp who avoided conflicts and who cried easily. In truth, he was anything but.  
Malcolm had found it out when Wil had blacked his eye and came close to breaking his arm. And Moulterd had found it out when Wil had confronted him for attacking Mavis. He now began to sense that he couldn't hide anymore, either, and not just because he loved Mavis.  
After finishing his bath, Wil dried off and shaved, then changed into the boxers and the clothes Annie had set out for him – a pale blue polo shirt, jeans, white socks and Doc Martens – then, after putting the towels and washcloth in the hamper, he went to his room.  
He saw his wallet sitting on his bed and placed it in his pocket, then went into his closet and drew out several items from a sideline he'd kept hidden for years.  
A police issue side holster, .38 caliber revolver, bullets, and a badge identifying him as an inspector with the Violent Crimes division of Scotland Yard. He then went to the phone beside his bed and called the Yard.

At the Yard, the switchboard operator answered, “Scotland Yard, how may I assist you?”  
“Chief Inspector Emma Fairbrass, Violent Crimes unit, please,” Wil said.  
“May I ask who's calling?” the operator asked.  
“Inspector Wilberforce C. Humphries,” Wil said.  
“Yes, Inspector Humphries, I'll put you through,” the operator said.  
When he was placed through to Emma, she was surprised. “Wil, I thought you'd planned to retire to the country,” she said. “What's happened?”  
“I think I know what happened to Mary Moulterd,” Wil said.  
“What are you talking about? That case has been cold for over 20 years.”  
“I know. And it's to do with Maurice Moulterd putting his daughter in the hospital several days ago when she refused an arranged marriage to the town bully.”  
“You mean arranged marriages are still on Great Tender's charter?”  
“Yes, and Maurice Moulterd and the family he wanted his daughter Mavis to marry into, the Heathcliffs, have kept it on the books for decades. And I think Mavis's being abused by her father ties in with her mother's disappearance.”  
“So it's not true about Mary having run away with another farmer.”  
“No. According to the local magistrate, Sir Robert Woodward, that other farmer, Philip Crabtree, disappeared long before Mary Moulterd did. And I don't think we'll be finding either of them alive, if we do find them.”  
“Tell me this, Wil. Does anyone at Millstone Manor know you're a cop?”  
“Just Mavis, but she won't say anything. Sir Robert knows, too, but he and Mavis are on the same page.”  
“So what do you want me to do, Wil?”  
“Let me work deep cover on this. I want to find out what happened so this urban legend can finally be put to rest, and so Mavis can have closure.”  
Now Emma realized. “You're in love with her, aren't you?”  
“I am.”  
“Wil, don't let your heart overrule your head. I don't mind you loving her, but we have an investigation to carry out. Focus on that. Then focus more on pursuing Mavis.”  
“I plan to. Thank you, Emma.”  
Emma smiled. “Don't mention it, Wil.”  
As he hung up, he saw Annie standing at the door. “I see you're strapping the gun back on,” Annie said. “I thought you were through with that police rubbish.”  
“Mother, something's come up in Great Tender,” Wil said. “I've been assigned t'deep cover t'take care of it.”  
“And blow your cover? Oh, Wilberforce, you know that worries me. I've already lost your stepdad t'this, I don't want t'lose you, too.”  
“Mother, the only reason we lost Spencer is because he went t'prison for murder. His being part of the London Metro Police had nothing t'do with it.”  
“Still, I don't want t'lose you. Does Mavis know?”  
“Yes, Mother, she knows.”  
“Well, please be careful. And when you go back to the manor, don't let on what you're doing. You're liable t'get hurt.”  
“Just trust me, okay?” Wil now kissed his mother on the cheek and hugged her. “I'll call you as soon as I can.”  
“Please do,” Annie said as Wil left to return to the hospital.

“Maurice, are ya feelin' okay?” Malcolm asked the next morning over breakfast.  
“Aw, I jus' 'ad a bad night 'a sleepin',” Maurice said. “This restrainin' order is bollocks!”  
“I know,” Malcolm confided. “We can't plan th' weddin' or anythin' as long as that 'Umphries is around 'er. It's like th' weedy li'l git's b'come a wall of steel around Mavis.”  
“I know, Malcolm,” Henry said. “Well, let's not put our minds to it right now. We still gots sheep t'kill.”  
“Ya want me ta help ya?” Maurice asked.  
“No, Maurice, best you stay 'ere,” Henry said. “Don't want you t'strain yerself, y'know. An' b'sides, me an' Malcolm got this.”  
“Oh, all right,” Maurice said. “Ain't th' same, not 'elpin' you out.”  
“It's quite all right,” Malcolm said. “Just get you some rest.”  
“Thanks, son-in-law,” Maurice said with a grin as Henry and Malcolm left.  
After finishing his breakfast, Maurice put his dishes in the sink, then headed upstairs to the guest room. En route, he made a curious discovery.  
Malcolm's room was standing open. Curious, he now peered inside.  
And didn't like what he saw.

“Right, Malcolm, you an' th' boys start 'angin' th' meat,” Henry said as he prepped one of the sheep to be slaughtered.  
“Sure, Dad,” Malcolm said. “Right, you lot, you 'eard 'im.”  
“Sure, Malcolm,” Danny Mitchell, another of Malcolm's mates, said as they did just that.  
No sooner had Henry begun shearing this sheep when Maurice stormed up. “Right, you bleedin' Nazi, let's 'ave it!” he erupted.  
“Maurice, what's with you?” Henry asked, totally flummoxed.  
“I know what you an' Malcolm's all about now, an' I'm Goddamned sorry I ever agreed t'this dowry!” Maurice fumed.  
“What? You're backin' out? But Maurice - !”  
“Shut yer damn pie'ole! I made a mistake doin' what I done t'er all these years, an' I made a bigger mistake trustin' you an' that no-good boy o' yours! Mary was right!”  
“Maurice, let me remind you. We made this deal a long time ago, and it still stands. And in any event, you've no room to talk. You killed Mary, remember?”  
“Yeah, I killed Mary, an' I'm sorry I done that, too!” Maurice now turned to leave, but Henry grabbed him by the arm.  
“Where are you going?”  
“T'turn meself in an' set things right!” Maurice now shrugged Henry off. But he didn't make it out of the Heathcliff estate.  
Not alive, anyway.  
No sooner had Maurice turned the corner than Malcolm took off his head with the wood axe, killing him instantly.  
Henry now approached his son. “Thank God you did that,” Henry said. “Maurice was about to expose everything.”  
“Yeah, so now what?” Malcolm asked, dropping the axe onto the ground.  
“I'll take 'is 'ead. You drag th' rest o' 'im an' follow me,” Henry said, leading Malcolm to the killing shed.  
The rest of the farmhands were in the barn, hanging the sheep carcasses, leaving Malcolm and Henry alone to do what they had to do. Henry now grabbed a shovel and gave it to Malcolm. “Start diggin', son. I'll 'elp you.” He then grabbed another shovel.  
Within minutes, Maurice was buried underneath the dirt floor of the killing shed. They had also cleaned up the fresh blood where Maurice had died by stirring up the ground where he fell and was dragged and covering it up.   
“Dad, no one needs t'know this,” Malcolm said later.  
“No, indeed, boy,” Henry said. “C'mon, let's kill th' rest o' them sheep.”  
“Right b'hind you,” Malcolm replied, following him back to the killing shed.

Fast-forward to Friday.

“Oh, there's someone pullin' in!” Shirley said, looking out the kitchen window. Cuthbert now went to see.  
“That's the Rolls,” he said incredulously. “But Mrs. Slocombe's not due back for a month.”  
Then they realized. “It's Mr. 'Umphries an' Mavis!” she exulted, running out to meet them, with Cuthbert close behind.  
“What're you doing home?” Cuthbert asked.  
“Dr. Taylor released me a'ead o' time,” Mavis said as Wil now unpacked the trunk of the Rolls. “I made a quicker recovery than she thought I would.”  
“That's splendid,” Cuthbert said. “But you don't need to be doing any farmwork for awhile.”  
“Oh, believe me, Cuth, I'm not letting her,” Wil said.  
Now Jessica came out. “Mavis, welcome home,” she grinned, hugging her gently. “But where's the laptop?”  
“We left it with Capt. Peacock and your mother,” Wil said. “Turns out, Peacock knows how to work those things.”  
“That's smashing,” Jessica said. “Here, Mr. Humphries, I'll help you bring in Mavis's things.”  
They then went in. “So, 'as Dad been givin' you lot any static?” Mavis asked.  
“Oh, yeah, 'e's still wantin' you t'marry Malcolm,” Shirley said. “But ever since 'e was arrested, 'e's been layin' low over at th' 'Eathcliffs' estate.”  
“That doesn't surprise me,” Wil said. “Didn't you say, Mavis, that your father was Henry's best friend from their mixed-infants' days?”  
“Yeah, they were,” Mavis said. “So, what do we do 'bout th' meetin' t'night?”  
“Well, we'll have to be there early at the village hall, so as to get a good seat,” Cuthbert said. “And also so that dreadful Malcolm can't get near you.”  
“Oh, that's not likely,” Wil said. “He gets up in her airspace again, I'll punch him again.”  
“Calm down, Cujo, we don't need you endin' up in th' dock for assault,” Shirley said.

Upstairs, in the room they shared, Wil and Mavis now had a chat of their own.  
“We need t'be careful, Willy,” Mavis now said. “They almost saw y'gun an' badge.”  
“I know, dear,” Wil said. “But you heard what the chief inspector said before I brought you home. I have t'carry it all with me. And besides, Sir Robert's the only other person who knows I'm with the Yard.”  
“Tell me again what you're suspectin' about Mum's disappearin', Willy.”  
“You mean about Mary not actually running off with that other farmer?”  
“Yeah. B'cause I've been questionin' it meself fer a long time.”  
“Well, for one thing, that Crabtree fellow disappeared long before your mother did. And I think your mother's disappearance ties in with the way your father's treated you all these years, and also with him wanting you married to Malcolm Heathcliff.”  
“You mean 'im beatin' me pillar t'post from th' time I could walk.”  
“Exactly.”  
Now Mavis realized. “My God. Y'think Mum opposed th' dowry?”  
“Yes, I do. And I think that's the key to her disappearance.”  
Wil now went to the phone. “What're you doin'?”  
“Calling Sir Robert first. Then I'm calling Emma.”

“Mr. Humphries, are you saying that Maurice Moulterd may have killed his wife?” Sir Robert asked when Wil called him.  
“That's exactly what I'm saying, Your Worship, but I've no idea how t'prove it,” Wil said. “I'm going t'see what I can do about getting an investigation team down t'Millstone Manor, complete with cadaver dogs, and I'm going t'need the help of the local constabulary, too.”  
“You've got it, Mr. Humphries. Don't worry, we won't blow your cover.”  
“Thanks, Your Worship.”

Within the hour, the investigative teams arrived at Millstone Manor. “Oh, blimey, not again,” Shirley grumbled. “'As another gun went off or somethin'?”  
“Damned if I know, Shirley,” Cuthbert said.  
Sir Robert now approached. “Mr. Rumbold, hello,” he said. “We've gotten an anonymous lead about the disappearance of Mavis's mother. We're going to need to search the manor and the Moulterd farmyard, if you don't mind.”  
“Of course, Sir Robert,” Cuthbert said. “How can we help?”  
“Well, since he's had clashes with the Heathcliff family before, we need Mr. Humphries out here to help us,” Sir Robert said.  
“Right, I'll go get 'im,” Shirley said, going to do just that.   
Moments later, Wil was following Shirley outside. “How's Mavis?” Sir Robert asked.  
“She's well, considering what she's been through,” Wil noted.   
They now followed the team as they scoured the manor grounds. “Wil, you're taking a mighty risk, doing what you're doing,” Sir Robert said. “Does Mavis know?”  
“She knows. The others don't. So, has Moulterd been seen out anywhere since he was arrested?”  
“Just at the pub, getting drunk with Henry and Malcolm - !”   
“Sir Robert! We've got a hit!” one of the local investigators shouted. “It's at the farm!”  
“OhmiGod,” Sir Robert shuddered, he and Wil following along.  
At the woodshed, the cadaver dogs were howling and snuffling at something beneath the dirt floor, and were beginning to dig. “Right, get shovels,” Wil said. “We'll help!”  
“Right, Inspector Humphries,” Junior Inspector Sarah Edwards-Greene said. Then, shouting over her shoulder, she said, “You 'eard 'im!”

By the end of the day, the woodshed at Millstone Manor had once again become a crime scene. A set of human remains had been found beneath the woodshed floor, in a heavy state of decomposition. Although the remains were almost down to bone now, there was still flesh attached, and it reeked of the smell of death. Not just that, the skull had been bashed in.  
“Right, get that in a bag and get it to the medical examiner,” Wil said. “Sir Robert and I'll meet you there.”  
“Right,” another Junior Inspector, Thomas Graham, said. “Right, you lot, let's wrap this up!”  
As the remains were placed in the body bag and carried off, Shirley and Cuthbert now came out. “I'm afraid the meeting's been postponed for now,” Sir Robert said.  
“What's 'appened?” Shirley asked.  
“Call me crazy, but I think we found Mary,” Sir Robert said.  
“Right, tell Mavis I'll be back later,” Wil said, leaving with the investigative team.  
“Mr. Humphries - !” Cuthbert protested, but Wil cut him off.  
“Just do it! I'll be back later,” Wil scolded before he left.  
As Wil left with the team, Shirley mused, “Huh, 'e's sure b'come a man o' mystery, ain't 'e?”  
“So I noticed. Come on, Shirley, let's see what we can do inside.”  
“I'm with you.”  
They went into the kitchen, and found Mavis and Jessica sharing a cupper at the table. “Ain't you s'posed t'be restin'?” Shirley asked.  
“I needed some tea. I ain't 'ad a decent cupper since I went in th' 'ospital,” Mavis noted. “Pain in th' arse, this cast.”  
“Right, you 2, fancy a cup?” Jessica asked.  
“Sure,” Cuthbert asked.  
“Where's Wil?” Mavis asked now.  
“He's gone with Sir Robert and the investigative team to the medical examiner,” Cuthbert said. He then girded himself. “Mavis, human remains were found underneath the woodshed. They're going to test them.”  
Mavis now burst into tears. “Oh, God,” she sobbed.

The DNA samples were sent off the the lab in London for further examination, and Wil and Sir Robert were present as the medical examiner, Sue McFadden, went over the corpse.  
“There's obvious blunt force trauma to the back of the skull,” she said. “The victim died instantly.”  
“But is it Mary Moulterd?” Wil demanded.  
“”Hard to tell at this point,” Sue said. “We haven't got the results back from the lab yet. Probably won't until tomorrow morning.”  
“Damn, that doesn't settle anything,” Wil grumbled. “Here old Maurice is sitting pretty with Malcolm and his father, and Mavis is in more danger by the minute.”  
“From her father?” Sue asked.  
“From all three of them,” Wil reminded her. “Don't forget, Sue, old Maurice promised Mavis to Malcolm when she was a baby, and Henry's been for it as well. And there's the thing in the village charter allowing dowries and arranged marriages, as well. Damned outdated, if you ask me, and the beating Mavis took for refusing that marriage could have killed her.”  
Just then, Megan Price, the lab tech from DNA division came in. “We have a match,” she said. “It's Mary Moulterd.”  
“My word, that was quick,” Sir Robert said. “But how?”  
“We matched up blood types, and it lined up with Mary's,” the tech said. “Not only that, there'd been prior facial trauma from her being beaten by her husband. I found out by researching Mary's medical files. Maurice knocked her around a lot, even when she was pregnant.”  
“That doesn't surprise me. He's done it to Mavis, too,” Wil said angrily.  
“So this means we can make an arrest?” Sir Robert asked.  
“No, this means Maurice is a person of interest. We'll need to conduct a search of the Heathcliff place, and my guess is, we'll probably find Phillip Crabtree as well,” Wil said.  
“Cadaver dogs again?” the lab tech asked.  
“Precisely,” Wil said ominously.

Henry and Malcolm were headed back from finishing the sheep off when they saw police cruisers and the Scotland Yard K-9 unit headed to their estate. “Blimey, what the blue blood 'Ell is this?” Malcolm grumbled.  
“An' what's that 'Umphries doin' with them?” Henry asked in turn.  
“I'm gonna boil 'im in oil!” Malcolm said, charging for Wil.  
Wil saw Malcolm coming, and slammed him into the hood of the car. “Try it again and you'll be spitting out teeth,” Wil hissed.  
“'Umphries - !” Malcolm shouted. Wil now brought out his badge.  
“That's Inspector Humphries to you,” Wil reminded him. “We've got a search warrant, so we've got the right to be here.”  
“The 'Ell - ?” Malcolm said, surprised.  
Wil placed his badge back in its' place. “Right, let's turn this shit'ole upside down. Sarah, you lead one team of dogs through the farmyard. Thomas, you lead the other team through the house. I want this place searched from top to bottom, understand?”  
“Yes, Inspector,” Sarah said.  
“Right, Inspector,” Thomas agreed. Then the two teams separated.  
“'Umphries, you sonofabitch, you 'ave no right - !” Malcolm protested.  
“Wrong answer,” Wil said. “You're going to stay right here. You and your father both.”  
Now Henry approached. “You won't find nothin',” Henry said. “We got nothin' t'hide, do we, boy?”  
“No, we don't,” Malcolm insisted. “I can't wait t'see th' look on your face when you find out you're - !”  
“Inspector Humphries! We have another hit!” Sarah said, running up now. “It's in one of the sheds.”  
“So, you stupid li'l prat? We've been slaughterin' sheep!” Henry protested.  
“First of all, I'm no stupid little prat. And second of all, the dogs didn't find any sheep,” Sarah noted.  
Sir Robert now grabbed Henry, and Wil now grabbed Malcolm. “C'mon,” Wil said through gritted teeth, “move!”  
They now came to the killing shed, where the cadaver dogs were once again snuffling the ground and digging. “Get the shovels out again!” Wil shouted to some of the team members.  
“'Umphries - !” Malcolm protested, only for Wil to grab his shirt and shove him back-first into the wall, his blue eyes angrily fixed on Malcolm's.  
“Don't fuck with me, Malcolm,” Wil fumed. “Please, don't fuck with me. Or you'll wish you'd never been a bubble in your father's sperm bank.”  
The team once again began to dig, and now found Maurice's decapitated corpse, with his head nearby. Faced with this, Malcolm and Henry knew what was coming next.

“Two sets of 'uman remains on th' 'Eathcliff property?” Shirley asked after Sir Robert called back at the manor. “'Oo'd they find?”  
“For one, Maurice Moulterd,” Cuthbert said. “He was decapitated. They don't think he's been dead long.”  
“Dear God,” Jessica said. “Who else?”  
“They think, Phillip Crabtree. The farmer Mavis's mother supposedly ran off with,” Cuthbert said. “And the third set of remains, the ones found in our woodshed, were those of Mary Moulterd.”  
“So what 'appens now?” Shirley asked.  
“For now, Malcolm and Henry have each been charged with murder,” Cuthbert said. “They're being held without bond in the village jail.”  
“A good place for 'em,” Shirley said.  
“Where's Mavis?” Cuthbert asked now.  
“She's sleeping,” Jessica said. “Everything's been overwhelming for her, so we're letting her rest.”  
“My question is, 'ow does Mr. 'Umphries tie into th' investigation? Why did Sir Robert ask for 'is 'elp with it?” Shirley asked.  
“I honestly don't know. Maybe it's because of his relationship with Mavis,” Cuthbert said. “Maybe it's because he's clashed with Malcolm before. I really couldn't tell you.”  
“I wish somebody would,” Shirley said.  
Just then, the phone rang again. “Millstone Manor, Cuthbert Rumbold speaking,” Cuthbert said.  
It was Steven. “They're going to let Betty come home next Wednesday,” he said. “She's done very well here.”  
“That's good news,” Cuthbert said. Steven did not like his tone.  
“Cuthbert, what's going on?”  
“It seems we have a murder investigation ongoing, Steven. Three bodies have been found, one in the woodshed at the Moulterd farm, two at the Heathcliff estate.”  
“Three bodies? Who?”  
“Mavis's mother Mary was found here. And Maurice has been found dead, as well.”  
“Dear God in Heaven. Who else?”  
“There's the possibility that the third set of human remains belongs to the farmer that Mary Moulterd was supposed to have run off with years ago. A Phillip Crabtree. And get this. Scotland Yard has been called in, and for some reason, the Yard and Sir Robert have recruited Mr. Humphries to help them in the investigation.”  
“Mr. Humphries? He doesn't even carry a gun!”  
“Believe me, Steven, I'm as surprised as you are. Are you going to stay in London with Betty until she comes home?”  
“I believe I will, if that's all right.”  
“Well, we're not expecting any tourists for awhile, and we have enough from the last sets of visitors to get by for a bit. So would you object to the inn closing until further notice?”  
“Actually, no. I think we could all use a break.”  
“I agree. See you next week, Steven.”  
“Okay, Cuthbert, see you.”  
After hanging up, Steven turned to Betty, who was getting restless from having to stay in bed except for trips to the loo and her walking exercises. “What's happened, Steven?” she asked.  
“Betty, you don't need to trouble yourself right now,” Steven said gently. “Just rest, okay?”  
“No, Steven, you said something about Mr. Humphries not carrying a gun, and something about dead bodies. Let's have it.”  
Steven, chastened, now pulled up a chair. “Mavis's mother didn't run off with that other farmer,” he said. “She was murdered. They found her remains underneath the woodshed at the Moulterd farm. They found another set of human remains at the Heathcliff estate. And they also found Maurice Moulterd dead.”  
“Dead? Moulterd? What happened to him?”  
“I don't know, Cuthbert didn't tell me what happened. As it stands right now, Malcolm and his father have been charged with murder.”  
“Good. They need to be off the streets.”  
“They need to be off the planet, in my estimation.”

Mavis was inconsolable when Wil told her what had happened. “No, no, NO!” she sobbed, Wil trying to soothe her.  
“Mavis, calm down!” Wil pleaded, giving her a gentle shake. “I hate it as much as you do, but at least we have a chance to stop the Heathcliffs' operation now!”  
“'Ow? B'cause of them, me parents are both dead! An' Dad may've beat on me, but 'e didn't d'serve this!”  
“No, he didn't, but you're not helping matters right now with your conniption! Now calm it down, for God's sake!” Wil now gripped her upper arms gently. “Look, we don't need t'be fighting right now. We need t'do what we can t'send Malcolm and his father to prison, and t'untie the knots as t'your mother's death.”  
“What're you sayin', Willy?”  
“We...we think Maurice definitely killed your mother when she objected to the dowry. And Henry helped cover it up. And, well, there's the chance Henry and Malcolm killed Maurice when he found something out about them that he shouldn't have.”  
“What?”  
“They're neo-Nazis, Mavis. We found a treasure trove of hate in that house, from Nazi flags to a stockpile of weapons. Malcolm also has a neo-Nazi website, trying to recruit more young men like him for terrorist activities.”  
Mavis now burst into tears. “Oh, God. An' all this time I thought 'e was a garden-variety bully.”  
“Well, he's anything but.”  
Pause. “Willy?”  
“Yes, Mavis?”  
“'Ow can I 'elp in th' investigation?”  
“Mavis, you shouldn't - !”  
“Yes, I should! Willy, they need t'be stopped, no matter what! An' me an' you's th' only ones 'oo can do it!”  
“Mavis, are you saying they have friends on the outside who can help them?”  
“I don't know, Willy. But don't blame me if they do.”  
“I won't, dear. But you're still not recovered from that beating yet. Let your arm knit up all the way, then we'll talk about it. Deal?”  
Mavis knew he was right, and smiled. “Deal.”

“Miss Brahms, why's there so much police crawling around?” Julius Thorpe, the inn's attorney, asked when he arrived from London.  
“I think you better sit down for this,” Shirley said.  
Julius sat down. “What's happened?”  
“They found Moulterd dead just a bit ago. They've also found 2 sets o' 'uman remains, one of 'em b'longin' t'his wife Mary.”  
“Mary Moulterd's been found? What happened to her?”  
“Back o' 'er skull was crushed in. They think ol' Moulterd killed 'er when she objected t'him promisin' Mavis t'Malcolm when Mavis was a baby. An' get this. Mr. 'Umphries 'as been asked t'help with th' investigation.”  
“Mr. Humphries?”  
“Yeah, th' very same. I don't know why Sir Robert wants 'is 'elp, either.”  
“I saw a bunch of Scotland Yard sniffing about, too. That means something's about to be ripped wider than Young Mr. Grace's chest during his autopsy.”  
“Weird analogy, Mr. Thorpe.”  
“True. So where's Mr. Humphries now?”  
“Tryin' t'console Mavis. She's in a right state.”  
“Well, she needs him right now, more than ever.”  
“Y'not wrong.”  
“Say, how are things with you and Mr. Rumbold?”  
Shirley was surprised. “'Ere, 'oo told you?”  
“No one. But I see how you and Rumbold look at each other, how you interact. You do love him, don't you?”  
Shirley smiled. “Yeah, I do. Which is a damn sight more than I can say for 'is ex-wife.”  
“Oh, I agree. Cordelia was just horrible, and Rumbold will say that himself.”  
“Y'not wrong there, either.”   
Just then, the beeping of a car horn. “Wonder 'oo that is,” Shirley said, rising from her chair as Julius followed behind.  
“Oh, good, Shirley, you're here,” Cuthbert said. “There's someone out here in a taxi.”  
“A taxi?” Shirley asked, going with the men to see.  
And finding a woman in her early 70s, her long honey hair carrying several white streaks, and wearing jeans, sandals, and a shirt that said “Ibiza.” She then turned to Shirley, Cuthbert and Julius.  
“Is Betty here?” she asked.  
“She's in 'ospital,” Shirley replied. “'Oo are you?”  
“I'm her friend, dear,” the woman said. “Linda Axelby.”  
“Oh, Mrs. Axelby! Betty's told us so much about you!” Cuthbert said. “Here, we'll help you get settled in.”  
Linda repeated, “Is Betty here?”  
“I'm afraid she's in hospital,” Cuthbert said as they went in, after Julius paid the cab driver.   
“Why, what's happened to her?” Linda asked.  
“She's 'ad a 'eart attack,” Shirley said. “She 'ad t'ave a triple bypass. She'll be 'ome next week.”  
Linda was deeply concerned. “Oh, I was afraid of this,” she said. “I was afraid, after all the trauma she's been through, that this would happen to her someday.”  
“Well, she's getting better,” Cuthbert said. “She's seeing a therapist now for her emotional problems, and her heart attack's finally convinced her to give up drinking.”  
“That's good. I quit drinking myself, while I was in Spain,” Linda said. “I saved all my money to get back here, and now I have just enough to get by until I can get back on my feet.”  
“Well, Linda, you have a home here now,” Cuthbert assured her.  
“Yeah, an' since I'm bunkin' in with Betty, you can 'ave th' spare bedroom. We've got it all cleaned up an' everythin',” Shirley said.  
“Thank you, Miss Brahms,” Linda said.  
“Call me Shirley,” Shirley said as she and the others helped Linda get settled in.

The following week, Wil went to London to pick up Steven and Betty, as Betty was being discharged from the hospital. As Betty was given her discharge papers, Diana also gave her a hug.  
“You be good, Betty,” she chirped. “An' follow that diet an' exercixe regimen. Start slow with th' exercise at first, then build on up.”  
“I will, Di,” Betty said. “Thank you.”  
“Come on, Betty, let's get you home,” Wil grinned. “Thanks, Diana.”  
“Don't mention it, Mr. 'Umphries. Take care,” Diana said.  
As Betty was helped into the car, Wil noted, “I daresay, Betty, you look like you've lost a bit of weight.”   
“I 'ave. 20 pounds American,” she grinned. “Givin' up me gin an tonics has helped it along. So has givin' up the fried foods.”  
“I'm proud of you, Betty. We all are,” Steven said, the three of them now heading back to Great Tender with Wil driving.  
“I hear Malcolm and his father are heading to prison,” Betty said.  
“Yes, they are,” Wil said. “They're charged with killing old Maurice, and Henry has been charged as an accessory in the deaths of Mary Moulterd and Phillip Crabtree. Moulterd killed them, and Henry helped bury the bodies.”  
“How did Moulterd die?” Betty asked.  
“Apparently, Malcolm chopped off his head when he backed out of the dowry,” Wil said.   
“Whatever convinced him t'do that?” Betty grumbled.  
“We did a search of the house, and found that it reeked of neo-Nazism from stem to stern,” Wil said. “Swastika flags and everything. We also found Phillip Crabtree's remains in the house's fruit cellar. Like Mary, his skull had blunt force trauma.”  
Now Steven noticed, “Wil, you sound like a policeman in detailing all of this.”  
When Steven said that, it was all Wil could do to keep from spilling the beans. “If you say so,” he said, continuing the drive into Millstone Manor.  
Where Betty now saw Linda. “OhmiGod, it's her! It's Linda!” she exulted.  
“Easy there, Betty, y'stitches might come out if y'do too much,” Wil said.   
They now parked the car at the Moulterd farm, where Linda was helping Shirley and Cuthbert tend to the livestock and the garden. “Betty!” Linda said, running up and carefully hugging her. “How are you?”  
“Oh, I'm much better, dear,” Betty said, standing back so they could see each other. “Look at you! However did you get out of Spain?”  
“Simple, really. I saved up money to come back here,” Linda said. “But I had to sell my house in Lon-don because I couldn't afford the taxes anymore. So when I found out you were here, I cut my losses and moved.”  
“She's livin' with us now,” Shirley said, walking over. “She's offered t'help us run th' inn.”  
“Wonderful,” Betty said.  
“Come on, Betty, let's get you inside,” Steven said, gently ushering her into the manor, with Wil close behind with her bags.

Malcolm and Henry's trial would take place within the next 3 months, and the fact that they were in jail without bond made Mavis breathe a little easier. But not by much.  
Even with her father's abuse, she had still loved and respected him. But she still couldn't shake off the fact that, the last time they had spoken, he'd beaten her severely when she'd refused to marry Malcolm. She had been in the right, of course, but her father had wanted the marriage to the point of obsession.  
After all, that was why old Maurice had been pushing Malcolm onto her from childhood. That was why he had brought Malcolm to the manor for the cricket match, in an attempt to weaken her interest in Wil. And that was why he had orchestrated the darts match against Malcolm's team, then refused to defend her when Malcolm began to shove her around and bully her.  
All these years, Maurice had been blinded by the Healthcliffs' wealth, had been blinded to Henry and Malcolm's true nature, and it had left him estranged from his daughter, the one person he should have protected and loved. And it had also cost him his life.  
It didn't matter now. She and Wil loved each other and had developed such a deep rapport that he was able to trust her with his law-enforcement secret. And the Heathcliffs were now headed to prison.  
Or so they believed.

End of Part Two.


	3. Trial and Tragedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm and Henry Heathcliff stand trial for murder, and Mr. Thorpe is called to represent the prosecution. But just before the afternoon session, things go South...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Secrets come spilling out in this chapter. R&R!

"Sir Robert, this is unexpected," Julius said a month before the trial, when Sir Robert visited the manor. "How may I help you?"  
"Mr. Thorpe, I'll come to the nub of this situation," Sir Robert said. "We need you to help lead the prosecution in the Heathcliffs' trial."  
"Me? But I'm more a public defender than that."  
"True, but you're close to the situation, what with old Maurice beating Mavis again before he was killed. Julius, I want to see these 2 convicted. They've had a stranglehold on the village for too damned long, and you're the only one I trust to help break that hold."  
Julius thought a minute before giving his answer. "I'll do it, Your Worship. What do you want me to do?"

The next week, everyone at the manor received their subpoenas to testify at the Heathcliffs' trial, and upon receiving hers Mavis began weeping.  
"Dear, what's wrong?" Wil asked.  
"I'll 'ave t'remember everythin' now," she sobbed. "I was wantin' t'forget it."  
"And you will," Wil assured her.  
"'Ow, Willy? I 'ave t'tell what Dad did t'me in open court!"  
Wil was sympathetic, and, sitting before her, he gently gripped her shoulders. "Mavis, I know it hurts, but look at it this way. Doing this will help send Henry and Malcolm to prison."  
"But then your cover'll be blowed - !"  
"So? Maybe that's a good thing. There was no way I could be deep cover forever, y'know." Watch this. "in any case, we have t'go by the law if we want justice to be done, and you've been done a disservice all your life. Mavis, you have to testify."  
Mavis now dried up. "All right, Willy. I'm sorry I got so frightened."  
Wil now drew her close for a hug. "It's all right, dear. I love you."  
"I love you."

"What sort of case do you think Mr. Thorpe is preparing for the prosecution?" Betty asked as she, Jessica and Steven were chatting over a lunch of Caesar salad and Diet Coke in the manor kitchen moments later.  
"Beats me," Steven replied, tearing into his salad. "All I know is that Mavis has been called to be a central witness."  
"I'm sure not surprised, considering what happened to her before the old man died," Jessica said.   
Just then, the sound of squeaking bedsprings from upstairs. "Blimey, another round of mechanical bull," Betty said. "'Who'd have thought Shirley would go for 'Jug-Ears' after all this time?"  
"That's a mystery to me as well," Jessica grinned.  
Now Steven came to the point. "Jess, I owe you an apology," he said.  
"For what?" Jessica asked.  
"For trying to pursue a fling with you and not knowing you were Betty's daughter," he said.  
"Steven, all is forgiven, although you really owe me no apology," Jessica assured him. "Besides, I know where your heart really lies."  
"You do?" Steven asked. "Where?"  
Jessica smiled. "I've seen how you look at my mum," she sweetly teased. "You're rather keen on her, aren't you?"  
Steven blushed. So did Betty. "I knew it," Jessica chirped. "So have you kissed yet?"  
"Jessica, what a question to ask!" Betty mock-scolded. Then she smiled. "Actually, Steven's quite good at it."  
Steven then smiled and cradled Betty's hand in his. "Jess, your mum and I have gotten closer since her heart attack," he admitted. "And taking care of he had helped me heal since my wife Olivia passed away."  
"That's good," Jessica said, her hand now gripping both of theirs. "After all you 2 have been through, you deserve to be happy."  
"Thank you, Jess," Betty said softly.

Upstairs, Shirley and Cuthbert cuddled under the covers, the after of their making love now sinking in. "Blimey, we've needed this," she chirped, kissing him softly.  
"What eludes me is, why me and not someone like Mr. Lucas," Cuthbert said gently.  
"Well, you 'ave more depth of character, an' t'me that says a lot," Shirley said.  
"So do you," Cuthbert said.  
"'Ow? I'm a dead common bird from Catford - !"  
"But you're a 'no-bullshit' type of woman who knows what she wants out of life and isn't afraid to stand up for her principles," Cuthbert said. "Cordelia was the common one, not you."  
"Yeah, y''ave a point," Shirley agreed. "What gets me is, if she didn't even love you, then why did she marry you?"  
"Trust me, she put on quite a good show of it," Cuthbert said. "But that and a can of pilchards were meaningless once I found out the truth. I'm just sorry it took me so long to get there."  
Shirley gently cupped Cuthbert's cheek in her hand. "We all 'ave our regrets, Cubby. Th' trick is, not t'let them bog us down any farther."  
"You're right, dear. And I'm sorry I took you for granted for so long, and that I didn't divorce Cordelia sooner so I could have pursued you."  
"Aw, it's okay, Cubby." Kiss. "I love you."  
Another kiss. "I love you.

The first day of the murder trial finally arrived, with Henry and Malcolm in the village dock as the entire town filed in, standing room only. A multimedia screen was set up, along with a slide projector, and after much deliberation both sides were ready to begin opening arguments.   
Starting with Julius.  
"Before we come to the particulars of the death of Maurice Moulterd," he said, "we need to explore what happened to his wife, Mary, and to Philip Crabtree some 23 years ago. There has been an urban legend floating about since that time that Mary and Phillip ran off together. From what I'm about to show you, that was not the case. Lights, please."  
The lights went out. Then Julius put up the slides of Mary's and Phillip's decomposed corpses. "As you can see, they disappeared, all right, but they did not run off together. They were murdered. They each suffered such severe blunt force trauma to their skulls that they died instantly. Then the murders were covered up. Mary Moulterd was buried beneath the woodshed at Millstone Manor, which is now a local inn, and Phillip Crabtree was buried beneath the livestock slaughtering shed and the fruit cellar, respectively, at the estate of Henry Heathcliff and his heir, Malcolm. We believe that Mary Moulterd was killed by her husband, Maurice, but he is no longer here to defend these charges. As for Phillip Crabtree, who killed him? We trust that we will find this out during this trial. Lights, please."  
The lights now came on. "Further, there is a codicil in the village charter stating that arranged marriages and dowries continue to be legal in Great Tender, and that the Heathcliff and Moulterd families have been the primary supporters of this law for many years. Not just that, Maurice Moulterd had a history of physically abusing his only child, Mavis Anne, into her adult life, according to police records. Then we come to the nub of this situation. According to witness reports, there were a herd of sheep sent from Millstone Manor, by Maurice Moulterd, to the Heathcliff estate several months back. They were a dowry payment, assuring an arranged marriage that Henry Heathcliff and Maurice Moulterd had set up for their children years ago. However, Mavis Moulterd was opposed to the union, as she had fallen in love with someone else. Lights, please."   
Once again, the lights went out. "This is what happened to her."  
The people in the courtroom gasped in horror upon seeing the photos of Mavis after she had been beaten by her father. "This is a beautiful, 23-year-old woman, with every right to decide for herself who she wants to be with, and because of her refusal to marry Malcolm Heathcliff, her father beat her like a dog. A DOG! And even when she is in hospital, he still plans the marriage as if she had gone along with it! Lights, please."  
The lights came back on. "Maurice Moulterd then goes to live with the Heathcliffs after they post his bond, and because he is under a restraining order, as are they, he is not allowed to come anywhere near his daughter. But then something else happens. Something that led to this. Lights, please."  
The lights once again went out, and more slides came up. This time, they were of Maurice after his death. "After the bodies of Mary Moulterd, Maurice Moulterd, and Phillip Crabtree were discovered, a search was conducted of the Heathcliff estate. Inside, the local constabulary and an investigation team from Scotland Yard, led by Inspector Wilberforce C. Humphries, found what we believe to be the motive behind Maurice Moulterd's death."  
A hush came over the crowd. "Inspector?" Cuthbert whispered.  
"OhmiGod," Jess said.  
Julius was about to continue when the courtroom doors flew open and a gang of Malcolm's friends, brandishing guns, burst forth, firing away. "Take cover!" Wil shouted, grabbing Mavis and shielding her as they went down and everyone else ran for cover.  
One of the men, Jason Corbett, shot Sir Robert in the temple, killing him instantly, then the group held a gun to the bailiff's head. "Right, unshackle them," he hissed, "do it!"  
The bailiff then removed the shackles from Henry and Malcolm, and was swiftly pistol-whipped for his trouble. "Right, let's get out of 'ere," Henry said, he and Malcolm now making their escape.  
Wil now rose, gun drawn, and went after them. "What the Hell's he doing?" Cuthbert asked angrily.  
"I don't know, but me back's killin' me," Betty said.

Henry and Malcolm were going into the escape van with the others when they saw Wil charging out of the courthouse, wielding his revolver. He stood flat-footed in the middle of the road and fired.  
"That 'Umphries is shootin' at us!" Henry erupted.  
"Go! Go! GO!!!" Malcolm shouted as the driver, Robbie Graves, got the lead out.  
Wil continued shooting, but to no avail, as the rest of the constabulary came out to see what was happening.

"Damn it, Wil, you're not one of the MI-5!" Steven erupted as Wil came back in to help assess the damage. "And what's this about you being with Scotland Yard? Have you been living a double life all these years?!"  
"Mavis told me something like this would happen, all right?!" Wil erupted back. "They planned this from the beginning!"  
"Dear God, this makes no sense!" Steven said, following Wil back into the courtroom.  
Where they made a heartbreaking discovery.  
Cuthbert was hovered over Shirley, sobbing uncontrollably as she lay unconscious and bleeding. A stray bullet had hit her in the left side.

Shirley would live, but she barely made it through the surgery  
As they all sat in the waiting room at St. Mary's once again - Shirley had had to be airlifted to save her life - there was a sense of darkness in the room, of secrets that could no longer be concealed to light. And also a sense of betrayal. But no one dared break the silence.  
Until, at last, Betty spoke.  
"Wil," she asked, "who are you?"

End of Chapter Three


	4. A Dangerous Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Humphries' secret is out at last, and, emboldened by what she has seen, Mavis makes a crucial decision. R&R!

Wil now brought out his badge and ID and dropped a bombshell. "Violent Crimes unit, Scotland Yard," he said. "I've been with them for several years."  
As it all sank in, Cuthbert lashed out in anger. "All these years, you sonofabitch, you were a damned detective?!" he erupted.  
"Yes, Cuthbert, i was," Wil admitted.  
"Now this really makes no sense," Steven said. "How were you able to keep it concealed working at Grace Brothers? Young Mr. Grace would have sacked you for having ANY kind of sideline!"  
"Actually? Young Mr. Grace knew about it," Wil said. "You're forgetting, before I came to Grace Brothers there were a series of burglaries in the store. He brought me in as deep cover while I was still with the London Metropolitan Police, and kept me on after I upgraded to the Yard's Violent Crimes unit."  
Chastened, Cuthbert said, "That explains why you kept your life away from the store so shrouded in mystery. But what about the trip to Gueurnsey and all of that?"  
"That was part of the ruse," Wil said. "I was conducting police business during those trips."  
"I have another question," Jess said. "have you killed anyone in your police work?"  
"Only when I have to," Wil said. "I'm a 5th degree martial arts black belt, meaning I can kill someone barehanded. Rather like Bruce Lee in 'Enter the Dragon,' when you think of it. But mostly, I've had to kill with my pistol."  
"Who else knew, Wil?" Steven asked.  
"Me mother, for one," Wil said. "Mavis knew, of course. So did Sir Robert, and just before the trial, Mr. Thorpe. I was working the case on a deep cover level." Wil then cradled Mavis's hand in his. "I just didn't figure on Mavis and I falling in love."

Two hours later, Wil and Mavis were back at the courthouse, this time with the team from Scotland Yard. Emma had come to help assess the damage, and she was not happy.  
"Wil, we should have been better prepared for something like this," she stated.  
"Believe me, Emma, I had no idea this would happen. Mavis warned me, and I should have listened," Wil said. "I'm sorry."  
"Right, we need to trace the Heathcliffs' every move from now 'til the Rapture," Emma said. "So what do you suggest?"  
"Mavis has a theory on that, Emma," Wil said.  
"Okay, Mavis, let's hear it," Emma said.  
Mavis girded herself, then spoke. "I don't think Malcolm or 'Enry are gonna be stayin' in th' village," she said. "Fer that matter, I don't think they're even gonna stay in th' country."  
"What the Hell?" Emma asked. "You mean they could escape elsewhere?"  
"Possibly to America," Mavis said. "Malcolm loved t'brag about 'is mates over there."  
"So he has friends over in the States," Emma said.  
"Precisely," Mavis said.  
"So what are you suggesting?" Emma said.  
"Send us there," Wil said, "we can apprehend them together."  
"Wil, I can't go along with that," Emma said. "Miss Moulterd isn't even an agent with us - !"  
"So train her! She's as determined to bring them to justice as I am!" Wil said. "We'll monitor their every move, but we need to first determine where they're going to strike next! And Mavis's help is invaluable to us. After all, her father abused her for much of her life and tried to get her married to Malcolm!"  
Emma relented, albeit reluctantly. "All right, then," she said. "Mavis, we'll have to enroll you in our academy, but it's not going to be an easy go of it. It'll call for a lot of hard work and hard training."  
"I wouldn't want it any other way," Mavis said.

Her first day at the Yard's training academy, the rest of the recruits, mostly male, thought they would have an easy go at knocking Mavis down.  
They were wrong.  
The first recruit did land a punch in the face, but soon regretted it as Mavis waylaid him with a swift kick in the head. Then another came in to attack, only to receive a kick to the stomach. By the time the initial warmup was done, Mavis was the last person standing.  
"Damn," Emma said, observing from nearby. "I don't know whether to put her on the Heathcliff case or to recruit her with NATO."  
"Right," the instructor, Charles Holloway, noted. Then he approached. "Right, you lot, I think we've seen enough," he said.  
"That bitch almost killed us," one of the male recruits whined.  
"And you only just noticed? Too damn bad," Holloway said. "'It th' showers!"   
As the others headed to the separate shower areas, Holloway held Mavis back. "Moulterd, I like you," he said. "Keep it up. It's gonna get tougher from 'ere."  
"Thank you, sir," Mavis said, going to shower.

"That Moulterd bitch really gets my goat," one of the male recruits, George Alexander, griped. "'Ow th' 'Ell did she get into th' Academy?"  
"She 'as a friend in 'igh places, plus she was a witness at th' Malcolm 'Eathcliff trial," another recruit, Tyler Brown, added.  
"Yeah? So's 'oo's th' friend?"  
"Inspector 'Umphries."  
"Inspector 'Umphries? That old fruit?"  
"'E's no fruit. Word 'as it when 'e went t'Great Tender t'investigate Mary Moulterd's disappearance, they fell in love. But they've cooled it down so she can earn 'er way through th' Academy."  
"Far as I'm concerned, she'll never earn it. I 'ate that bitch already. I say we do what we can t'force 'er out."  
"You'll 'ave a fight on your 'ands. She beat th' shit outta everyone in th' gym, remember?"  
"Aw, that was a one-shot. She just got lucky."

No, she didn't.  
Mavis continued to thrive at the Academy, her fighting skills improving despite George's opposition to her presence. Then he tried to go too far.  
Mavis was running around the jogging trail at the Academy one afternoon when, suddenly, George grabbed her from behind a row of trees. "Right you li'l bitch, I'm gonna teach you you don't b'long 'ere!" he erupted, pulling her into the woods in an attempt to rape her.   
He didn't succeed.  
Mavis fought back, and fought back hard, waylaying him with more punches and kicks than in most movie fight scenes. Finally, she stood over him, herself bloodied and bruised, and grabbed the semiconscious George by the hair, her eyes angrily fixed upon his.  
"Suck me dick," she hissed, kicking him in the head.  
The melee now brought out Holloway and the rest of the cadets. "Moulterd, what did you do?" Holloway asked.  
Mavis smiled. "This bloke tried t'rape me," she said truthfully.  
"An' you did this t''im?" another cadet, Brenda Farmer, asked.  
"I did," Mavis said ominously, "an' I'll do it t'anyone 'oo gets anymore ideas like this."  
"Right, get out of 'ere, Alexander," Holloway said. "An' pack your gear. You're finished!"  
"Inspector! That bitch - !" George protested.  
"I said go! You're finished 'ere!" Holloway said.  
As George left, Holloway turned to Mavis. "I'm proud of you, Moulterd," he said, "damn proud."  
"We all are," Tyler said. "Truth is, we've all wanted t'do t'George what you just done. 'E was pure poison from th' start."  
"Aw, it was nothin'," Mavis said humbly.

End of Part Four


	5. Educating Mavis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mavis continues to thrive at the Yard's academy, just as the ongoing investigation into the Heathcliffs' activities after their escape picks up speed...

"You know, Wil, your Mavis has really thrived since coming here," Emma said when she and Wil were meeting in the Yard's crime lab, three months after the George Alexander incident.  
"Well, after what she's been through, it's no wonder. She's definitely a fighter," Wil chirped. "Where's she at now?"  
"She's on the firing range with the rest of her class, doing some target shooting. Why?"  
"How adept is she with the firearms?"  
"You mean she never told you?"  
"No."  
"Her father used to take her on hunting trips and taught her how to hit targets blindfolded. He taught her with a rifle, of course, but she's doen equally well with the handgun she was issued upon arriving here. She can take it apart, clean it, and reassemble it with lightning speed."  
"She still in therapy?"  
"Oh, yes. And it's really agreed with her."

"Moulterd!" Holloway called out during shooting practice. "You're up."  
"Thank you, sir," Mavis said respectfully, pistol in hand, the bullets nearby so she could reload each time. She loaded her pistol, then aimed at the target in front of her and fired.  
As she emptied the revolver into the target, the bullets never strayed from the bullseye, as she was a dead shot. She reloaded, then repeated the exercise.  
"Damn," Tyler said, impressed.  
"You're doing well, Moulterd," Holloway said. Then, turning to another cadet, Mark Crouch, he said, "Set her up some more targets."  
"Right, Inspector," Mark said, doing just that.  
Again, Mavis hit the targets perfectly, with cold, steely precision.  
Already the idealistic farmer's daughter was hardening into a realist.

"So what have you learned so far?" Wil asked.  
"We've been trying to track the Heathcliffs' movements, without much success," Emma admitted. "We froze their bank accounts, but they had stockpiled up to 5 million pounds sterling for just such an emergency."  
"What was their net worth?"  
"It was in upwords of 7 billion. They made the royals look like paupers."  
"And they lived in Great Tender and based their Nazi operation there."  
"Precisely. One of Malcolm's former mates, Jesse Dimbleby, knew nothing about it. Not just that, he was opposed to the Heathcliffs and old Maurice trying to force Mavis into marrying Malcolm."  
"That doesn't surprise me. Jesse never seemed the type to have been like those damned Heathcliffs."  
"You're not wrong."  
Just then, Inspector William Steele approached. "William, what have you found?" she asked.  
"We've found the Heathcliffs," he said, presenting her and Wil with a dossier. "They definitely flew to Anerica."  
"On a commercial flight?" Wil asked.  
"No. They had a private jet," Steele said. "They kept the jet at the airstrip between Great Tender and Lake Tenderbottom, and used it in their escape."  
"Where did they go?" Emma asked.  
"Arlington, Virginia. And get this. The pilot was found dead in the plane a week after they landed. He'd been shot twice in the back of the head."  
"Damn," Emma said. "Right, go get Mavis. She's on the firing range."  
"Yes, Chief Inspector," Steele said.

"Right, you lot, take a 10-minute break," Holloway said midway through practice. "After lunch, we're going to do some running through the woods. Then we're hitting the gym."  
"Right," the entire class said in unison, each reaching for the bottled water and sitting on the grass.  
As Mavis sipped her water, one of the female cadets, Diane Joyner, said, "I have to admit, Mavis, I thought you'd be a pushover that first day. I was wrong."  
"We all were," Tyler noted.  
"Well, when you've been beat on most of yer life, y'learn t'be tough," Mavis noted.  
"Why'd your dad beat you up that last time, anyway?" Diane asked.  
"'E wanted me t'marry Malcolm 'Eathcliff. Th' bloke 'oo ended up killin' 'im," Mavis admitted.  
"Oh, blimey, I read about that," Diane said.  
Just then, Steele approached Holloway. "Fairbrass wants t'see Moulterd in her office right now," Steele said.  
"Right," Holloway said. He then approached the group. "Moulterd, you've gotten a reprieve. Fairbrass wants to see you."  
"Thank you, sir," she said, rising from the ground, putting the safety on her pistol, and putting it in her holster before going with Steele to Emma's office.

Fairbrass was waiting in her office when Mavis arrived from the firing range. So was Wil.  
"Willy!" she chirped, walking into his hug. "I 'ad no idea you was 'ere!"  
"Well, Mavis, I'm loaded with surprises," he chirped in turn. "Blimey, you're a sight for sore eyes."  
Emma now cleared her throat. "Right, if the 2 of you are done with the lovey-doveys for a moment, I have the Heathcliffs' dossier right here," she said, handing it to Mavis.  
Mavis read over it several times, letting it sink in. "They went to America," she said. "Where in America?"  
"Arlington, Virginia," Emma said. "They had a private jet, but the pilot didn't disembark with them. He was found dead a week later, two bullets in the back of his head."  
"They still in Arlington?" Mavis asked.  
"Here's the thing," Emma said. "They've dropped off the radar. I was speaking to Wil just now, and he's made a suggestion I don't altogether agree with, but makes perfect sense."  
"What's that?" Mavis asked.  
"Sending me and you to Arlington, deep cover, to fish the bastards out," Wil said.  
Mavis was accepting of the idea. "'Ow deep cover?" she now asked.  
"Deep enough to where neither of you are recognizable," Emma said. "Mavis, this means you and Wil will have to disguise yourselves to the point that they won't know who you actually are."  
Mavis didn't even blink. "I'm in," she said.

End of Part Five


	6. Time To Get Stung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wil has already gone deep cover in his bid to solve the murders of Maurice Moulterd, Mary Moulterd, and Phillip Crabtree. Now he goes even deeper...
> 
> And Mavis will join him.

"Agent Joseph Parker," the older man said when he arrived at FBI headquarters in Quantico, VA.  
"Agent Tommy Banks," the younger agent said as he accompanied Parker, the 2 of them flashing their badges.  
The FBI director was on to the ruse, but given the circumstances, he played along.  
"Parker, Banks, the 2 of you came at the right time," the director, George Nugent, said. "We've been trying to track the Heathcliffs' movements ever since they fled from England. Emma Fairbrass of Scotland Yard's Violent Crimes division gave us the rundown on Henry and Malcolm both, as well as about the three murders. And according to the prosecutor in the case, Julius Thorpe, the murders came about because there was an arrangement between the Heathcliffs and the late Maurice Moulterd to get his daughter, Mavis, married to Malcolm. And that apparently, several weeks after he'd beaten his daughter up for refusing to marry Malcolm, Maurice had a change of heart that led to his head getting chopped off."  
"We're aware of that," Parker said.  
"How can we help?" Banks asked.  
"That's easy. Don't make yourselves too visible until we've got a nail on the Heathcliffs. Stay in the back until we tell you to go after them. Can't blow your cover, can we, Mavis?"  
Banks blushed.  
Under the hip-hop wear, goatee, and light grey contacts obscured by mirrored sunglasses, was Mavis.  
And under the black-on-black suit, no tie, bald head, sunglasses, cosmetic dentures, and green contacts, was Wil.  
Well, he'd always been a master of disguise, as evidenced by his bid in Benidorm to rescue Betty from a violent rebel leader who had fancied her.

Wil/Parker and Mavis/Banks stayed super deep cover during their time in Quantico, keeping a cap on their love to avoid any suspicion.  
One evening, during a takeout dinner of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and biscuits from Popeye's that they took in their 2-bedroom suite, they talked frankly.  
"Mavis, I love you," Wil said, "and I want to make a promise to you."  
"Such as?" Mavis asked.  
"When this is over with...well...let's get married."  
Mavis was overjoyed. "Willy, are you serious?"  
"Very. Let's do it."  
"Oh, Willy, I wish I could kiss you right now."  
"I wish I could kiss you, too. In fact, I wish we could make love right now. But as long as Henry and Malcolm are still breathing, we can't take any chances."  
"Yeah, you're right."  
Just then, a ticking. "Mavis, do you hear that?"  
Mavis now looked in the corner.  
A bomb.  
"PARKER!!!" she shouted, she and Wil grabbing their guns and ammo as they ran out the door.  
Just moments before the small-scale bomb went off.

Nugent didn't blame Wil/Parker or Mavis/Banks, but clearly someone was onto them.  
They studied the hotel surveillance cameras, trying to see what could have happened. At the 5 p.m. position...  
Was Malcolm.  
"'E's been 'idin' in plain sight the 'ole time," Mavis said.  
"No use with the damn disguises now, the stupid git's sussed us out," Wil fumed.  
"Now all we have to do is ferret him and his father out," Nugent said. "Don't worry, Mavis. We'll find them."  
At that moment, Nugent's phone went off. "Yo," he said.  
"We've found Henry Heathcliff," Agent Rick Hickey said on the other line, "shot full of holes. And none of the bullet wounds were self-inflicted."  
"Is he dead?" Nugent asked.  
"Yeah," Hickey said. "I heard there was a bomb in Inspector Humphries' and Inspector Moulterd's hotel room. How'd that happen?"  
"It was Malcolm," Nugent said. "And my guess is, he put those bullets in his father. First rule of murder - kill the murderer."  
"I know that's right. Humphries and Moulterd don't need to sweat it."  
"Believe me, they're not. They're ready to fry his ass."  
"I can imagine. I'll call you if I find out anything else."  
"Thanks Hick. Be careful."  
"I will, sir."  
After hanging up with Hickey, Nugent turned to WIl and Mavis. "Humphries, Moulterd, I think the safest place you need to be is right here."  
"But we need to go after him," Wil protested.  
"All in good time, Inspector. There's an unused set of cadet's quarters at the FBI Academy. You're welcome to use them. But no bumpin' uglies, understand?" Nugent said.  
"No problem," Mavis said. "We're waitin' until we get married, anyway."  
"Oh, you 2 are engaged?" Nugent asked.  
"As of tonight," Wil said.  
"Well, no bumpin' uglies anyway. Don't want the cadets getting any ideas," Nugent winked, now going to the gun locker.  
And bringing out 2 rifles, 2 more handguns and holsters, and ammo.  
"Don't want to take any chances," Nugent said.

Once they were ensconsed in, and had done a full sweep of, their quarters, Wil and Mavis locked every door and window, and Wil urged Mavis to sleep while he took the first watch.  
"Willy, I can do this," Mavis said.  
"Later dear. You're forgetting, I've been doing this for a long time," Wil said. "We can't have you falling asleep on your watch, okay?"  
"Okay, luv. But I'm not goin' to sleep without one 'a me guns," Mavis said.  
"You don't have to. But make sure the safety is on before you go to sleep," Wil gently admonished.  
"No problem," Mavis chirped, selecting her semiautomatic pistol, fully loaded, safety on before crashing on the nearest cot.  
Wil, pistols and rifle at the ready, sat in a chair beside Mavis's bed. He had no intention of leaving her side, now or ever again.

The next morning, Wil awoke - he had let Mavis take second watch - and found Mavis bleary-eyed and exhausted.  
"Are you all right, dear?" WIl asked.  
"I am," Mavis said, "I'm just a li'l tired, that's all."  
"Maybe you should rest."  
"No, Willy. I need to be focused. Malcolm's gonna pay fer what 'e did to my dad, even though my dad WAS an arsehole!"  
"That he was, dear. But he was still your father, and he did have a change of heart toward the end."  
"Yeah. It's a shame 'e didn't live long enough t'get it right."  
"I know, dear. And don't worry. Malcolm's gonna get his, hopefully sooner instead of later."  
Just then, Nugent and Hickey banged on the door. Wil answered. "Mr. Nugent, Agent Hickey," Wil said.  
"It's time to move," Nugent said. "Malcolm's been spotted in Arlington. Go sic him."  
"Did you hear that, Mavis?" Wil asked.  
"Y'damn right I did," Mavis said, changed into her Army gear and brandishing her guns. "Let's cook this pig."

END OF CHAPTER SIX


	7. From Grace He Will Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm meets his Waterloo...

Wil changed into clean jeans and a denim shirt, his sidearm in his holster, his ammo in his coat, and the rifle in his hand as he and Mavis went with Nugent, Hickey, and the rest of the team to the site of Malcolm's latest escapade.  
The Federal Bank of Arlington.  
He had robbed the place around lunchtime and had gunned down the teller and 2 others before making his escape.  
And he was still in the building.

"He's placed bombs all over the place," the bank officer said. "We've called in the bomb squad and everything."  
"Are they 'ere yet?" Mavis asked.  
"No, Inspector Moulterd, they're not," the bank officer said truthfully.  
"Damn it! Here he is sitting pretty while we're flying by the hairs on our arses!" Wil fumed.  
Just then, BLAM!!!  
Shots fired from the top floor atrium into the lobby.  
"SHIT!" Wil erupted, aiming upwards while shielding Mavis, who also had her gun drawn.  
"'E doesn't let up does 'e?" Mavis said with a drip of sarcasm.  
"Right, you take one stairway, I'll take the other," Wil said. "We do this together, wife of mine."  
"Music to me ears," Mavis chirped as they took separate stairwells.

"'Ummmphriiieeeeesssss..." the mocking voice hissed as Wil started up the stairs. "'Ummmphhriiieeeeeesssss.....I see you, 'Umphries. 'Ave you caught sight 'a me yet?"  
"Malcolm," Wil realized as he ascended the staircase.  
"Yeah, it's me. And you're about to quit breathin'. You shoulda let me 'ave Mavis..."  
"In a pig's eye! She'll NEVER be your wife!"  
"Oh, I'm aware of that. That's why you're going to get to watch while I kill the li'l bitch as slow as I can..."  
"You sick bastard."  
"Yes, I am, 'Umphries. An' you're a child molester."  
"How is that possible? She's a grown woman! She happened to fall in love with me! Not you! And her father kept beating her because of it!"  
"'E was only tryin' to bring 'er to 'eel an' make 'er see I was the right bloke for 'er! But she never learned that lesson, did she? She HAD to choose YOU!"  
Wil kept ascending the stairs, until he got to the top.  
Just as Mavis got to the top as well.  
"You 'eard 'im, didn'tja?" Mavis said.  
"I heard him. Now let's bring him - !"  
And now Malcolm emerged, kicking Wil between the shoulderblades and knocking his wind out.  
"WILLY!" Mavis said worriedly.  
"Yeah, 'e's your Willy, all right, you selfish bitch," Malcolm fumed. "I shoulda been YOUR man! Just like yer dad 'ad promised 'ad 'e not gone back on 'is word!"  
Mavis kept the gun drawn, eyes on Malcolm as he stepped over Wil "You see, Mavis," Malcolm said, "YOU were the issue all along. Not that fiancee of yours. 'E's just collateral damage..."  
Malcolm now produced the ax.  
"One ax, 2 Moulterds," Malcolm said. "Only your dad went a lot quicker than YOU ever will!"  
And now Mavis rolled out of the way instinctively as Malcolm heaved the ax in her direction. She shot in his direction, but couldn't get in a clear shot.  
Until Wil rose up and clipped Malcolm in the leg, sending him ass-first onto the marble floor in pain.  
Mavis now walked up and kicked the ax far from his reach. But Malcolm wasn't done.  
He also had a pistol. And he aimed it squarely between Mavis's eyes.  
"Just desserts, eh, Mavis?" Malcolm asked, slapping her pistol away as he backed her into the corner, gun drawn. "I said I'd kill you one day for desertin' me in favor of that 'Umphries..."  
Malcolm now thumb-cocked the pistol.  
"Now's as good a time as any to do it."  
But before Malcolm could pull the trigger, BLAM!!!  
Mavis had remembered her second sidearm, shooting Malcolm just below his heart.  
As he died, the last words he heard Mavis said were, "No one thought I 'ad it in me."

As the crime scene was being cleaned up and the bombs disarmed and dismantled, Wil and Mavis clung to each other as they never had, ever.  
Mavis's nightmare was truly, finally over.  
Nugent now approached. "Hey, why don't you 2 go get some sleep before you hop back to England?" he asked. "I'll get you guys a hotel room, if you like."  
"That'd be nice," Wil said.  
"2 bedrooms?" Nugent asked.  
"No, 1," Mavis chirped.  
"I thought you said you 2 weren't - !" Nugent said.  
"We lied," Wil chirped.

Indeed.

END OF CHAPTER 7


	8. Today And Every Day...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last...

The little church in Great Tender was all abustle with activity 3 weeks after the triumphant homecomings of Deputy Inspector Moulterd and Chief Inspector Humphries, and now the 2 were on reserve for future cases until further notice.  
Today, however...

"I, Wilberforce, take you Mavis, to be me lawfully wedded wife," Wil said as they began the exchange of vows. "To have and to hold from this day forward. For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, for all the days of me life."  
"I, Mavis, take you, Wilberforce, t'be me lawfully wedded 'usband," Mavis said as happily as he. "To 'ave an' to 'old from this day forward. For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness an' in 'ealth, for all the days of me life."  
Wil smiled as he gazed upon his new wife. Still a country girl, Mavis had foregone the fancy foofy dress her father had chosen for the arranged marriage in favor of a pretty floral dress, ballet flats, light makeup, and fixed-up hair for marrying Wil. And Wil, of course, had on a smart suit with a bright yellow tie - the suit he wore, in fact, when Betty was in the dock for nicking that gypsy horse and cart so long ago.  
And now the exchange of rings.  
"Mavis, accept this ring as a sign of my love and faithfulness," Wil said as he tenderly slipped the ring on her hand. "With all that I am, and all that I have, I honor you."  
Now it was Wil's turn.  
"Willy, accept this ring as a sign 'a my love an' faithfulness," Mavis said softly. "With all that I am, an' all that I 'ave, I honor you."  
From the pews, the other 4 couples at Millstone Manor couldn't help but smile. Betty clutched Steven's hand, Jessica kissed Jesse on the cheek, Celia and Linda were all smiles, and Shirley rested her head upon Cuthbert's shoulder.  
With that came the wrap-up.  
"By the power invested in me by Almighty God and this Realm," Pastor Dick Lucas, who years ago became a Christian and had also repented to Shirley for the Punch and Judy incident, now said, "I now pronounce you to be husband and wife. What God has joined together, may man not separate." Dick now turned to Wil. "Wil, I think you know what to do."  
With that, Wil tenderly cradled Mavis's face in his hands and kissed her.  
Deeply.  
"'Ere! Easy on th' tongue!" Shirley teased.  
"Behave yourself, Shirley," Cuthbert giggle-admonished.  
With the kiss, Wil and Mavis began the journey into a life filled with love...

THE END...?


End file.
